


Golden Wire

by Krasimer



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Canon-Typical Violence, Cute, Cute Kids, F/M, Kings & Queens, M/M, Princes & Princesses, Secretly Royal, The deaths are original characters and one main character is thought to be dead, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-17
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:10:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 31,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8303059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: Collected Royalty AU drabbles all in one place, all the same story being told.





	1. ==> BE MITUNA CAPTOR

==> BE MITUNA CAPTOR

The marketplace was not nearly as packed as it could have been, and you are glad for it. It allows you to run freely, legs that were almost too long for your body giving you an advantage over anyone that might have tried to follow. The nearly full moon shone down, lighting the path ahead like a spotlight made just for you. With the breeze picking up and ruffling your hair, it feels like you're going faster than you ever have.

Until you slam unceremoniously into someone.

Whoever it was that you hit goes down with you, your limbs tangled together. A groan issues from what you presume is a troll, given the brief hint of horns that you spotted before impact.

For a second, you lie there on the ground, breathing hard. When you can breathe normally again, you start pulling yourself out of the knot of person that had been created, mumbling apologies.

"Thorry," you hiss as your knee smacks the other troll's for the fifth time. "Thorry, Thorry, here." you manage to pull entirely away, a hand out to help the other up. "Thorry about that." you grin sheepishly as you finally caught the gaze of a pair of irritated eyes.

"You keep sayin' that," the other troll started, frowning as he spoke. "Ya sure ya mean it?"

You nod, splaying your knees off to the sides and grabbing your ankles as you jiggle your legs. 

An eyebrow arches in your direction. "Alright, kid. Whatewver ya say." the troll started to stand, already brushing off his knees as he did so. The alternating blue striped scarf that was wound carefully around his neck made the rest of his outfit look entirely goofy. The pants were almost skin tight and black, with a similarly tight white tee shirt. Despite the norm of wearing them proudly, the troll has omitted his sign and blood color, a blank slate of white hiding his status. 

After a pause, taking in his outfit and greased back hair, you raise an eyebrow back. "I'm not a kid!"

"Ya look like one, but vwhatewver." The troll held out a hand to help you to your feet. "What were ya runnin' for? I don't see anyone chasin' ya."

"I like running," You shrug, taking his hand. "Why were you thtanding thtill in the middle of the path? It doethn't theem like a thmart idea when it's market time. And, obviouthly, it wath a bad one tonight."

The troll shrugs right back. "I was trying to remember where a friend a' mine said she'd be, and I got a little distracted by somethin' in one a' the stalls."

"Oh." you can feel your cheeks go flushed, a dark yellow color that's obvious even in the darkness. "Anyway, I'm thorry about running into you. Papa alwayth thayth that I need to watch where I'm going. I really didn't mean to hit you, you were jutht kind of in the way."

The troll rolls his eyes, crosses his arms over his chest. "This was not my fault!"

"It kind of wath!" You counter, gesturing at the entirety of the path. If you were to lay down on the ground, arms and legs stretched out as far as they could go, you'd be able to touch both sides of it. "It'th not a narrow path, you could have gone to one thide or the other."

With another sigh, the troll puts a hand to his forehead. "Look, let's try this again. My name is Cronus. Your name is Mituna. Nice to meet ya."

You hold a hand out, smiling when Cronus shakes it. "Nice to meet you, Cronuth."

"CronuS." he corrects, both eyebrows raised now. "SSSSSSSS."

"Fuck off." You grin almost threateningly at him this time, double fangs shining in the silvery light of the moon.

"Wait, why do ya have four fangs?" he leans in closer to see, genuine interest on his face as he puts his nose close to your chin to inspect your mouth. "That's so weird..."

"It'th not weird," you shoot back, sticking your tongue out at him. "Your fathe ith weird."

"So, I'm guessin' that your lisp is caused by your teeth." Cronus fills in the awkward space created by your failed insult, then takes your hand. "C'mon, you get to explain to Meenah why I'm late. She's not happy at the best a' times, and she's usually quick ta blame me for bein' late." he grins at you, and you almost want to hit him. "I just have ta explain that someone pretty distracted me."

Your foot nearly catches on a stone as you walk when he says that. "What?"

"Someone pretty," he repeats the words, eyes drawing down your body. "Do your fangs effect your hearin', too?"

"But-" he kisses your knuckles and you can feel your think pan dribbling out your ears, the flush on your face growing stronger as he licks his lips, fangs digging into the soft flesh at the edges. "I think you're taking the wrong perthon to thee her if you're explaining that thomeone pretty thtopped you."

Cronus shakes his head but otherwise ignores you.

You tug experimentally at your hand, trying halfheartedly to get out of his grip. His fingers don't loosen, so you shrug and let him tug you along, trying to ignore the burst of warmth in your chest as you think about what he said.

Eventually, the two of you reach a market stall that's filled with various jewelry.

A troll girl with two curved horns stands at the front of it, a small bag hooked onto her wrist. One of her feet is tapping imperiously on the ground, the bag swaying with the movement of her body. Whatever she bought is jingling inside of it, clinking together and apart again as she glares at Cronus.

"You shellfish son of a stingray," she hisses as he goes closer to her, still pulling you along. "I've been waitin' here for moray than an hour and everyfin!"

Cronus leans down and hugs her with one arm, still holding your hand. "I got distracted," he grins at her when she raises her eyebrows, and you feel your stomach tighten for some reason. "I saw somefin pretty, had to bring it with me."

She directed her gaze to you, and you swallow against the sudden lump in your throat as you raise a hand and wave. "Hello. I think he thaid your name wath Meenah?"

Her jaw drops and a gleam of glee enters her eyes. "Oh, he's adorabubble!" she squeaks, a hand raised to cover her mouth. She reaches for your hair, and you stop yourself from pulling back. When she pushes it out of the way, she grins at what she finds. "You're psionic! The red and blue kinda give it away."

With a soft sound in the back of his throat, Cronus looks at you again, an odd smile on his face. "Ya could have stopped me from bringin' ya here."

You shrug before you can stop yourself. "I don't have anything elthe to do tonight, why not meet thomeone new?" you look into the jewelry shop, head tilted to the side. "Are you going to drag me off again, or can I look at the wareth?"

He moves to the side, hand still holding yours. You step in closer, fingers running along the edge of the table as you try to ignore the pulse you can feel in his hand.

Meenah watches the two of you, a sharp-toothed grin on her face. "So, how did you tuna meet?"

"He ran into me. Literally." Cronus starts, only answering her when she hits his shoulder. Your cheeks are warmer than you feel comfortable with, your claws tapping the edge of the table as you pretend to be focused on a necklace that's being displayed on a dark purple cushion. "I was kind a' in the way."

You pick up a thin ring, feigning interest in the orange and yellow flecked stone set into it. "Like I thaid, it wathn't a thmall path."

"Also like ya said," Cronus speaks quietly, "I shouldn't a' been in the middle a' it."

The curling feeling in your stomach is back with a vengeance, your insides trying to tie themselves in knots as you look up at him. Despite the fact that he hasn't got a visible blood color in his eyes yet, you can't help but think he has the prettiest eyes you've ever seen. You've got a ring in your hand as you open your mouth to say something, and you like the weight of it. Dimly, you realize that this looks like one of those human proposals, and you pull your hand out of his at that thought.

"Thorry," you whisper this time, your breath coming out in short puffs of air.

Around the two of you, the market seems to have gone entirely quiet, Meenah went off somewhere away from you. "For what?" he whispers back, chest moving in much the same way yours is, his own breath coming out in short pants.

"For dithtracting you," you mutter, turning back to the table. Instead of putting the ring down, you turn it over in your fingers. The stall owner is off to the side, reading a thick book that you distantly recognize as a romance novel. The fact that their eyes aren't moving and their face is flushed just tells you that they're trying to give you privacy for whatever it is that is happening between the two of you.

Cronus shakes his head slowly, you can see it out of the corner of your eyes and takes your other hand in his own. "Distractions can be quite nice, actually."

You almost smile at the disappearance of his strange accent, and then you pull your hands back. He lets you go, a smile on his face as you step closer to look at something else, the ring back on the table. A thin metal hoop that has a few small pink-tinted purple stones studded into it catches your eye, and you take it over to the shopkeeper to pay for it.

You refuse a bag, sliding it onto your wrist.

"Vwhy'd ya choose that?" he asks, voice back to how it sounded before as the two of you walk out of the stall to find Meenah. "I mean, it's pretty, yeah, but vwhy?"

You shrug yet again, a smile curling your lips. "I jutht liked the color of the thoneth." you explain as you walk over to the clothing stall that Meenah is wandering around in. "I could athk the thame of your thcarf."

He tugs gently at the ends of it, bringing them together and tossing them over one shoulder. "I feel kind a' naked vwithout it, and I don't havwe anyfin else ta cover up my neck vwith that vwouldn't look evwen vweirder." he puts both of his hands on the sides of his neck, and you must have frowned because he shrugs and lets them fall. "I know that it looks..." he makes a face and wobbles a hand in the air.

You tug him into another stall, right next to where Meenah is, and look around for a few minutes. A few passes over the contents of the stall finds you a suitable looking choker, a wide leather strap with brass buckles holding the two ends together. "Here," you hand it to him. "Go try that on."

With a look at you, he holds it in his hands, testing the weight on his fingers. "...Really?"

"Leather'th in thith theathon." you shoot back, pushing him towards a changing area that pulls closed. "Not gonna look, go put it on."

He comes out a few minutes later, tracing his fingers over the edges of the choker where it sits on his neck. "I think I actually like this." he peeks into a mirror set on one of the small tables. "It definitely goes better vwith the outfit."

You grin at him when he turns to you. "If leather'th not your thing, then you can get a metal one."

You think the look on his face is panicked for a moment before it's smoothed over by a salacious grin and a lick of his lips. "Nowv I think you're just lookin' ta get me into a collar and restraints." he nudges your shoulder, then goes to pay for the choker.

You wander out of the stall again, almost smacking into Meenah.

"What's with you tuna night, buoy?" she raises an eyebrow at you, looks behind you, presumably for Cronus. "You kelp runnin' into people, we're gonna think you're flirtin' pretty hard." she pauses, then tilts around you, her mouth open. "That's a new look."

"He found it for me, I thought it looked better than the scarf." Cronus is behind you, the heat of his body pressing into your shoulders and back.

"What's his name, anyways?" Meenah steps back to allow the both of you out of the stall, falling in step with Cronus. "I never did get tuna-oh it."

Cronus slaps a hand over his face. "That one vwas a stretch, Meenah, and ya knowv it. There is no excuse for that one, and you completely knowv it. That vwas horrible. Completely horrible." he parts his fingers, looks between them with a frustrated noise in the back of his throat.

"I liked it," you tell her quietly. "And my name ith Mituna. Mituna Captor." you smile at her, ignoring the tired groan that Cronus lets out at your approval of the truly awful pun.

The grin she gives you is nothing short of terrifying.

 

It's getting close to sunrise when you finally separate out from the two of them.

Instead of letting you walk off on your own, they walk you home, insisting on it since they kept you out so late. Despite your protests, Cronus slings an arm around your shoulders and leans in a bit close. The warmth between the two of you makes your skin flush again. "Really, Chief," he starts nudging at your head with his nose. "Vwould be rude a' us ta make ya vwalk home alone."

His closeness and heat make your head swim a little, and you decide to stop arguing to try and save some dignity in the face of the weird attraction you've been stewing over.

He is pretty, you decide as you watch him walk away from your vantage point in the window of your hive. The width of his shoulders is more than the width of yours, so you felt a little dwarfed as you walked with him, and the lanky-ness of his body makes you almost shiver when you think about it.

You have to wonder what the deal with his neck is, though. It's obvious that both he and Meenah are seadwellers, the fins on the sides of their heads confirm that.

Is it just an 'I don't like exposing my gills' thing?

You shrug it off, then turn to go to your room and sleep. On your way there, you spot both of your parents on the couch, napping, with their arms wrapped around each other. You take a moment to smile at the sight, then continue up the stairs and pull your clothes off until you only have your underwear on.

You slip into your recuperacoon and fall asleep quickly.


	2. ==> BE CRONUS AMPORA

==> BE CRONUS AMPORA

Your name is Cronus Ampora, and holy gog, you might have just fallen in love.

Meenah eyes you almost suspiciously as you head back home, the fading moonlight a warning to hurry along. The sun will be up in not too long, and you'd prefer not to be out when that happens. You've seen the burns that can happen to a troll when they stay out in the daylight for too long, you would really like for that not to be you.

"So," Meenah starts when you can see your shared hive up ahead, her arms crossed over her chest. Her bag is back into view, slung over her shoulder like it had never left. You know for a fact that she dumped it in the bush at the entrance to the market.

"So vwhat?" you ask her, letting your faked accent drop away as you hold out a hand for the canteen of water she offers you. When she hands it over, you drizzle it through your hair, rubbing away the effects of the gel. Slowly, your curls pop back up, neat ringlets of black framing your face. You take a drink of it, finishing it off, then hand it back to her.

She trades you a wrapped up bundle for the canteen, sticks it back in her bag, then pulls out another bundle.

You unwrap it carefully, pulling each ring on carefully and inspecting it for damage before moving on to the next one.

"You sea-med to like him." she eventually continues, pulling her own rings on. Hers are followed by gold bracelets and a choker made of gold with almost burningly pink stones in the settings. "Is this going to become a thing you do?"

"Is vwhat going to become a thing I do." you deadpan as you take the bundle of clothing she offers you. You dart behind a bush to change into it, coming out a few minutes later in a rich fabric in the color of your blood, the deep plum silk shining in the dim moonlight. "Hanging out vwith other trolls in the market?"

"No," she calls from behind her own bush, steps out with her shoes in hand. "I mean hanging out with him."

There's still your cloak in your hand, and you ball it up as you continue walking. You take the bag from her as she digs her circlet out from it's depths, setting it neatly on her brow. She walks barefoot for a little while. When the castle-hive comes into view, she heaves a deep sigh and digs her shoes out of the bag, hiding the ones she prefers at the bottom of it. The both of you stop as she pulls them on, the short heels giving her a little more height.

You pull your cloak on, the deep purple-pink fabric shimmering in the light as you bring it to clasp in the front. "I hope so," you whisper, brushing your fingers over the choker he had picked out. "I think I like him."

Slowly, regretfully, you pull the leather from your neck, exposing the richly purple gills that slash through the skin there.

"I think he might like you too," she says, and it almost reassures you for a moment. The moment passes quickly when you look over at her, then wave a hand at the view of the castle. The silence stretches between you, and you smirk at the sight of your guards gathered in front of the gate, worried expressions on their faces.

"Howv much can he actually like me if he doesn't actually knowv me?" you find yourself saying, a cloud of misery settling on your shoulders.

By the time the two of you get to the gate, the guards are all standing at attention.

"Princess Condesce," she makes a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. "Prince Orphaner," you feel like echoing her for a moment. Your father is standing on the other side of the gate, however, and you know that he would be furious if you did. He allows you to wander the markets and is actually even proud of the way you two manage to slip away from the guards, but he would be absolutely furious if you disrespected them that way.

Meenah lifts her chin, pulls her bag off her shoulder and shoves it into the arms of the guard closest to her. "I assume that my mother has voiced her wish to speak with me tonight?"

"Yes, Princess." he nods, flails to catch the bag before it hits the ground.

She sighs, then gestures for them to lead on. "That bag needs to go to my chambers," she orders, giving the guard holding it a look. "And if I find that you've peeked inside of it, well..." she trails off, letting the silence inform them of what would happen.

He nods, not even speaking as he hurries off.

You bow to Meenah briefly, brush a kiss to her knuckles, then walk over to your father as she walks away.

Mayulk Ampora, the Lord of Hope, is still the most intimidating thing you can recall in your eight and a half sweeps of life. Your mother walks out to stand beside him, her dress a shimmering blue in the late night light of the fading moon. The two of them smile at you, Mayulk biting the inside of his lip in a way that suggests he's holding in laughter.

"Ipibre," he turns to your mother, switches to biting the tip of his tongue between his front teeth. "Our son is getting evwer better at evwading his guards."

Your mother is Ipibre Kamils, the Heir of Mind, and she smiles at you. A hand tucks under your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. Your parents are both intimidating to you, even when showing you love. "Our dear little wiggler is growing up to be quite the trickster." she hums softly, her thumbs wiping over your cheeks as she rids you of the last traces of hair gel.

You suspect that both your parents and Meenah's know what it is you two get up to when you're in the market. You suspect, also, that Kurloz's parents know as well what their son gets up to when he's with you. Although he is currently training to be a Subjuggulator, he takes time off when he can to spend it with his fellow royals. Your cheeks are flushed as your mother turns your head to both sides, nodding slowly when she finds nothing else to suggest that you weren't dressed as a Prince amongst his people.

"That he is," Mayulk turns, puts an arm around your shoulders and motions for Ipibre to join him on his side. You have to smile as you watch your mother slide into his arm and lean against his side, her right hand on his chest and her chin tucked against his shoulder. "I could not be more proud of him in that regard."

You groan because you know what he's hinting at.

"Father, I'm only-"

"I knowv." he speaks over the top of your words. "But a matesprite is something that vwould strengthen your portion of the ruling powver."

"It's not just my ruling powver though," you argue miserably, thoughts of blue and red eyes flashing through your mind as you look at your father. "I share it with Kurloz and Meenah. Vwhy does it fall to me to secure a matesprite and not them?"

He pulls you closer, kisses the top of your head, then nudges you backward so that he can see your face. "It does not simply fall to you," he begins, his words soft as he smoothes your hair back our of your eyes. "It is simply that you are the one I can talk to about matesprites vwithout the Queen asking me vwhy her daughter is in a foul mood again. Or Izmeis asking me vwhy his son is beating a tree to a pulp vwithout reason."

When you don't say anything to that he shifts, a smile back on his face, gentle and reassuring, and laughs gently. "Besides, you are the next in the line of powver. Meenah rules ovwerall, you rule specific sections, and Kurloz keeps evwerything in line. It is how it has been done for centuries." he turns his head to meet your mother's eyes and presses close to her. "Ruling powver will drain you if you let it. Someone to share it vwith makes evwerything vworth it." Your mother smiles up at him, her blue ringed eyes filled with adoration and trust. His hand tightens on her waist, and he turns back to you.

"I-" you fall silent again, scratching idly at the back of your head. "I may havwe met someone today. I don't knowv if he'll like me for me, if it gets to that, but I think I like him."

"Vwhat's his name?"

Your cheeks heat up and you look anywhere but at your parents. "His name is Mituna Captor, and he is beautiful."

Mayulk's face lights up. "The son of the Psionic!" he crows, your mother shushing him softly, a pap against his lips. "Is he a psionic as vwell?"

"I believe that he is, yes." you smile, fingers twisting together as you think about him, about the heat that came off of his hand when you held it. You think about the silly grin he kept flashing you when you would show him something just to make him laugh. "His eyes are the mismatched blue and red that vwould indicate psionic abilities."


	3. ==> BE THE SON OF THE PSIONIC

==> BE THE SON OF THE PSIONIC

Wait, you mean Mituna, right?

So you're Mituna again. You're in the Market, again. Your parents are off somewhere, having left you with spending money, a brief reminder of the presentation of the young royals next month.

It's been a few months since you met Cronus.

And you think you might have a problem because you think you might be more than flushed for him. There might not even be a word for how you feel for him. The pumping of your blood pusher every time you so much as think about him makes you nervous because you're certain that you shouldn't be feeling this way.

Your papa seems less concerned, simply smiling and patting your head when you bring it up.

Despite his attempts at it, you are in no way reassured. You're going to inevitably fuck something up, you just know it. Cronus is going to leave you, and he's going to hate you and not in a romantically aligned kind of way. Platonic hate. Hate that doesn't come with touching and angry kisses.

Right now, seeing as you're going flushed for him, that idea seems devastating.

It isn't until someone puts a hand on your shoulder that you pull yourself out of your thoughts with a shriek and a flail, landing on the ground on your face. The bangle you bought when you first met Cronus falls off your wrist, and you scramble after it. 

Whoever it was that touched you puts a hand on your shoulder again, holding you still. 

"Tuna fish?" 

Ah. It's Cronus. The nickname he gave you weeks ago is starting to become something you're extremely fond of, especially since he says it.

Your cheeks go a dark yellow color as you look up at him, and the smile that you know looks dorky is stretching your lips. The rush of happiness and flushed feelings and glee makes you into a puddle of goo. 

"Ahh," he mutters, then snags your bracelet off the ground before a troll lady wearing ridiculous heels can step on it. "Vwas this vwhat you vwere chasin' after?" he grins, leans in close and nudges your noses together, taking both of your hands and pulling you off of the ground. He kisses you slowly as he slides it back onto your wrist. "Almost got squished, Tuna Fish."

You have no idea how he keeps so calm when just being close to him makes you go brightly colored, your blood rushing to the surface of your skin. He never blushes, never flushes, never seems anything other than composed and laid back and now his hand is on your hip when did that happen? 

"What'th happening today?" you ask him as he leads you away from the main crowd of the Market, fingers curled tightly in the fabric on your waist. "You thaid that you wanted to tell me thomething."

"I did, yeah." his accent is doing the wavering thing that you've noticed it does sometimes. You're convinced that he's faking it, but you don't know why he would do that. You suppose he'll tell you in time. As you walk away from the noise and people, you notice the ring on his hand. As far as you can tell, it's the one you had been looking at the night you met. The yellow-orange stone shimmers in the moonlight as he pushes his fingers through his hair.

"You theem distracted." you tilt your head at him, frowning. 

He nods slowly, a shaky breath stuttering out past his lips. "I kinda am," he admits, coming to a halt in the middle of the walkway that he dragged you to. "The thing I vwanted ta tell ya. It's kinda important, and I need ya to knowv it before vwe go any further in vwhat vwe been doin'."

"Alright." you nod back at him, squaring up your shoulders and facing him. When he doesn't react other than his eyes going a little wide and fingers clenching uselessly in the air, you take both of his hands in your own. "You can tell me anything Cronuth, you know that."

He smiles at your butchering of his name, fingers twining together with yours. The ring is definitely the one you had been looking at, and you feel a surge of fondness at the sight of it. He must have gone back and bought it after you had left him that night, maybe the night after. When he sees you looking, he waggles the knuckle of his finger at you, making the gem flash in the soft light.

"I vwanted ta tell ya-" he cuts himself off, mutters something too quiet to be heard by you. After clearing his throat and shrugging, he smiles and tries again. "I- Vwell, I'm flushed for ya. And I vwanted ta knowv if that vwas a problem."

You get the feeling that that's not all he was going to say, but you grin anyways. "It'th not." you lean up on your toes, press your nose to his, pull your hands up to his shoulders and bring him closer. It must create an odd picture, your height not having caught up to where it should be just yet and his almost too tall for how old he is. You two must look uneven, but you can't help thinking that it's just right. "Fluthed for you," you whisper, looking into his eyes for a moment, then leaning up just a little further and kissing him.

His hands settle on your hips, pull you even closer as he leans back against the building you stopped next to. 

When you finally pull back to breathe, the both of you panting gently, you smile up at him, brushing your hair out of your eyes for once and meeting his again. He smiles back, then tucks his forehead into your shoulder, nose angled towards your neck. You run your fingers through his hair gently, trying not to disturb the gel he put in it.

Against your neck, he starts purring.

The two of you stay like that for a while, his arms wrapped around your waist, his back still against the wall. You don't mind, the closeness is comfortable and warm, his hands protective and one of them is splayed a little low on your back but that just makes it better. "I vwant ta stay vwith ya forevwer." he whispers. 

"WHERE IN THE SHELL ARE YOU?" Meenah's voice breaks the peace that had settled around you, and you nearly fall when you hear her screaming.

Cronus catches you, steadies you, then turns to the direction her voice is coming from. "I havwe to go." he mutters, pulling you back in for one last quick kiss. "I promised Meenah I vwould do something, and I may havwe abandoned her to come find you and tell you things." he grins sheepishly at you, a hand on the back of his head. 

"You promithed Meenah thomething and then didn't follow through?" you ask, an eyebrow raised. "I didn't know ghothtth could kith."

He grins, then looks up again when his name is screeched over the noise of the Market that can be heard behind the two of you. "I really havwe to go, I'm sorry Tuna Fish." he leans in one last time, presses his lips to your cheek, then rushes off. 

You feel your cheeks go bright again, and you put a hand over your mouth as you grin and lean against the wall. A few moments after he leaves you, running faster than you had ever seen him, a guard comes scurrying through the fairly deserted path you're standing on. From the clothes and the horns, you know it's Horuss Zahhak, the son of the Queen's main guard. Everyone knows what the Zahhak brothers look like, even if Equius is only barely pupated.

To your surprise, he turns to you, an air of exasperation to him. "Have you, perchance, seen Prince Orphaner about today? We have been looking for him everywhere, and it seems like he does not want to be found."

You shake your head slowly, not wanting to be misunderstood because of your lisp. 

With a sigh, he rubs at the space between his eyes, then nods. "Thank you for your assistance. I would hope that your day is good to you." as he walks off, you think you hear him mutter, "Better than mine is being to me."

You feel a twinge of worry for him. If he's lost track of one of the Princes, then he could be put to death if something untoward happened to him. "I'll keep an eye out for him," you tell him just as he almost disappears into the crowd. He stops in his tracks, turning back to you. The odd headpiece he's wearing hides his eyes, but you can tell that he's surprised. 

"Thank you." he gives you a quick bow, then walks off again.

 

Your parents are dressed in their best finery, and they've shoved you into yours.

Today is the day that the three young royals will be officially presented to the Kingdom, and your parents want you to look your best. 'Your Best' includes an awfully tight collared outfit, elbow length gloves, and knee high black boots. There's a deep yellow half cape draped over your shoulders, and your hair is pushed out of your face by a headband that your papa made for you. 

All in all, you're not comfortable, and you're quietly hoping that this will be over soon. The faster you get out of this outfit and into normal clothing, the better.

The parade route is a direct path from the castle gate, around the city, and back to the gate. Your parents have secured a spot directly on the edge, with one of the best views of the passing people. The carriages that host the royals aren't quite where you are yet, and you're sitting with your chin in one hand, elbow braced on your knee. 

It's thanks to the height of your seat that you can see into the faces of the Princes and Princess as they pass.

It's thanks to the height of your seat that you can see when one of the Princes goes wide-eyed.

It is thanks to your papa that you don't fall out of your seat when you realize that Cronus is the one sitting in the carriage, staring at you like he's going to faint.

The deep wrenching in the pit of your stomach nearly makes you sick, one hand going to cover your mouth. That was Cronus. That was your Cronus, your matesprite, and he recognized you in your stupid outfit and you think you might still be sick because you've apparently been fooling around with a Prince.

The rest of the parade passes you by, but you don't remember any of it.

You're too focused on the fact that you might be about to die, considering the light headedness and dizzyness you're currently feeling. When your parents swarm and ask you if you'd like to go back to the hive, back home to sleep and drink some water, possibly stay there for a few days, you shake your head. 

You have to find out if that was actually him. 

Weeks before, he'd promised you that he would stay with you, that the two of you could and would be together, and he'd never once made a mention of being anything other than a seadweller of some unknown blood color.

Of course, now that you think about it, it makes sense. The fact that he always hid his gills was probably because he didn't want anyone seeing the color of them. Meenah did the same. 

The day he told you he was flushed for you stands out in your mind, and you nearly purge your entire digestive sac on the ground in front of you. What he had planned on telling you originally, before changing it and telling you he was flushed...

Was it that he was a royal?

You pull your knees to your chest as your parents wait for the crowds to disperse. They have an audience with the Queen soon, and you hadn't been planning on going to see her with them. Now, you think, you should really go. 

If you don't go, you don't have to find out the truth.

You can't let secrets and lies stay how they are, however, and you stand when they do, follow them silently and much more meekly than you can remember ever acting before.

Cronus lied to you, that much is clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have so much written that I should probably be making an update schedule instead of posting all at once.
> 
> Oh well.
> 
> So you might notice that this story is mostly Cronus and Mituna right now. That's because it kind of started as, "Let's make something cute for them."
> 
> I hope someone is enjoying this.


	4. ==> BE CRONUS AMPORA

==> BE CRONUS AMPORA

Vwell, shit, that didn't go vwell, did it?

You're currently standing in the main hall of the castle, a hand plastered over your eyes, the other tangled in the hair on the back of your head. An inch to the side and your claws are going to be digging into the base of your horn. At your side, Meenah is trying to calm you down, one of her hands on your shoulder.

You could kick yourself, you honestly could. You remember, distinctly, Mituna telling you that his papa was a teal blood and his father was the Psionic. You should have known that they would be front and center during the damn parade.

Your breathing is doing nothing to fill your lungs, and your gills are flaring to try and help.

You're aware that you look panicked, eyes wide with your gills and vestigial fins flared. It's half threat display and half terror and oh fuck, you should have told him when you meant to.

"I'm shore it's not that bass." Meenah rubs at your back, her claws angled away from your skin. "I mean, he's all flushed for you, right?" she winces when you finally pull your hand away from your eyes and glare at her. 

"I lied to him, you honestly think that that is something he'll forgivwe?" you hiss at her, ear fins flaring out on the sides of your head now that your hand isn't pressing them down.

"The Family Captor approaches!" one of the guards calls, and you nearly fall back into your panic attack again. Family Captor means Mituna, Mituna will be angry, and you can feel the worry radiating off Meenah and Kurloz. Strangely, them being worried calms you down a little, enough to where you can face him and be alright.

You think.

There's three of them: His parents and him. He's following behind them, hands clenched together in front of him, and the look on his face says that he'd rather be anywhere else right now. 

His parents both bow to you and the others, their fists over their blood pushers, and you nod gracefully back at them. "I havwe heard of your audience vwith the Queen," you tell them. "She is vwaiting for you." you gesture towards the throne room and then you look at Mituna. His parents walk away and then it's just the four of you and the six guards on duty in this room.

He looks up at you, standing before him, his own eyes wide as he takes in the sight of you, clad in the robes of royalty and the color of your blood.

"You..."

You look at him, your eyes going so wide that you feel they might pop out, a fresh wave of panic surging through you. "Mituna."

"You lied to me," Mituna hisses, backs away, slaps your hand down from where you went to rest it on his cheek, his eyes narrowing. "You thaid that we could be..."

His eyes began to flare blue and red, the psionic power he normally keeps on a tight leash running free at the moment. You feel the panic doubling, the certainty that you might have lost him hitting you in the second you see the red and blue flaring up around him.

"Tuna fish, vwait, don't-"

"YOU LIED TO ME!" Mituna screeches, dropping to his knees, fingers digging into the ground as his powers flare in a dangerous arc around him. You watch him, panic morphing into sadness as you look around. Taking in the positions of your guards, of Meenah, of Kurloz, you shake your head, waving them away. This is your problem, you caused this, you need to fix it.

You drop to your knees beside him, forcing yourself through the field around him so that you can wrap your arms around him. Ignoring the shocked whispers that rise up from your actions, you bury your face in Mituna's neck. "I didn't mean ta." you mutter, right in the psionic's ear.

Vaguely, you're aware of Meenah shoving Kurloz back, aware of her snarling at the group of guards to back off as well unless they wanted to lose something.

You really don't care.

"I don't vwant ta lose ya," you feel your eyes preemptively aching, the stinging tears already starting to track down your face. "I vwas afraid ta tell ya because I didn't vwant ya ta leave me, and I kept puttin' it off cause ya made me happy."

Mituna snarls at you, trying to push you off. Despite the thin build and the small amount of muscle he rarely shows off, he is stronger than you would have thought.

"No!" you growl, fingers digging into the padding of his bodysuit. "I need ya, it's gotten to the point that I don't knowv vwhat ta do vwithout ya!" You internally wince at how desperate your words sound, and then you decide that you really don't fucking care.

Feeling wetness on your shoulder, you pull back, fingers tangling together with Mituna's as you move. "Tuna Fish?" You wince when you notice yellow tears coating Mituna's cheeks, but the psionics are calming down slightly.

Belatedly, you realize that your cheek and forehead feel like they're on fire, burning in pain, blood dripping down into your right eye.

"You..." Mituna looks away from you, letting go of your hands and curling his knees against his chest. "Lied." He hiccups miserably, bottom lip quivering.

You scoot closer, dragging your robes through the dirt and across the still muddy floor, moving until you can pull Mituna onto your lap, and you pet soothingly at his hair again. "I'm sorry." you whisper, bringing your own legs up to that you can curl him closer, cradle him to you in a way that will feel like the rest of the world is gone.

Hands go around your neck, seeming for a moment to be thinking about strangling you, then continue on until they're clasped together behind your back, pulling you closer until you are flush against the smaller body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're mostly still chronological at this point, but there's going to be skipping around the timeline. This story will also include the younger generation.


	5. ==> BE MITUNA CAPTOR AGAIN

==> BE MITUNA CAPTOR AGAIN.

"Your head ith bleeding..." you feel dizzy, the words coming out in a soft jumble of syllables, eyes closed as you cuddle into your boyfriend's lap. "I'm thorry..."  
Shaking his head, Cronus pets at your hair. "Ya shouldn't be apologizin' right nowv. I'm a lyin' bastard and I shoulda told ya."

You can feel the laughter in your throat, and you almost choke on it, shifting until you can rest your head on Cronus's shoulder. "So you're Orphaner. As in, Prince Orphaner."

"Yeah."

Pulling back, you smack him upside the head, then wait. "If you keep things from me anymore, I will leave."

"Sounds fair." Cronus nuzzled his cheek against Mituna's. "Lovwe ya."

"You don't get to hear that from me until you tell me everything that you've kept hidden from me." You mumble, hiding your face in your matesprite's chest. "And altho probably not for a very long time afterwardth."

"Still sounds completely fair." Cronus presses your foreheads together.

The sound of footsteps makes you look up, and then you almost fling yourself backward as someone who looks a terrifying amount like Cronus kneels down next to you, an eyebrow raised. The troll in front of you has to be at least three feet taller than you, and it is entirely possible that there's more of a difference than that. You're a little distracted by the sword clipped to his hip, the jagged edge of it only one thin leather casing away from being able to be simply pulled out and used to dice you into little pieces.

The troll leans closer, puts a careful hand on your shoulder. "I am assuming, givwen your current position in my son's lap, that you are Mituna Captor."

You nod slowly, and you wince when you hear your own father and papa gasping at the sight of you sitting in the secondary Prince's lap, holding him close. "I am," you mumble, tucking in closer, one hand twitches when the older troll stands again, his hand lifting off of you. "Ith there a problem?"

He smiles down at you, and it's actually reassuring. "I do not believwe so. Are your parents here?"

You nod again, point them out in the crowd. Cronus tightens his grip on you, hauls you even closer than before, and the two of you smile when Meenah comes skipping over and drops to the ground beside you. Kurloz follows at a more sedate pace, his club in his hand and a glare on his face that is directed at anyone who might try to break you away from Cronus.

At least, you assume that's what it's for, especially when a guard approaches to do exactly that and he honks at them murderously. The sound is muffled by the stitches across his lips, but it still makes you startle, and the guard back away.

A few minutes pass, and you hear the crowd disperse, the familiar voices of your parents remains, however, and it seems like they're talking to the slightly terrifying troll that looks like your matesprite. "Ith that your father?" you ask Cronus quietly as you lean back a little to play with the curls dropping down around his face.

"Yeah." he sighs the word out. "I think he's talking to your parents about something really important."

"We thould probably get off of the ground."

"Probably, yeah."

Neither one of you moves. Your excuse is that it feels wonderful to be this close to him, even if you're still sort of angry at him. You wonder if his excuse is that you just carved two jagged lines across his face with psionics.

Eventually, you pull back, sliding off of his lap and onto the ground. Without a word, the two of you stand up and turn to your parents. A fourth troll has arrived, a lovely looking female in a shimmering dark blue dress. Her arm is looped through Cronus's father's arm, and she looks back at the two of you like she knows you're watching.

"What are your parent'th nameth?" you ask him quietly.

"Mayulk and Ipibre." he mutters, hand finding yours after a few seconds of trying to escape the cloak he's wearing. "Yours?"

"Buzthith and Heydan." you swallow heavily when your parents call you over, papa's eyes wide and bright in the way you know means that he's worried and possibly a little scared. "Thould I be running?" You pull his hand to your mouth, kiss the knuckle of his little finger, then let them both drop back down to your sides as you walk over slowly.

"I don't think so." his breathing is going quickly now, his eyes slightly wider than the last time you looked. "I think you'll be okay. If anything, I'm the one vwho's in trouble. My father has been asking me to find a matesprite for a swveep nowv, and I nevwer brought you home to meet him." he swallows, the same nervous motion that you made, and holds you tighter. "I do lovwe you, by the way."

You look at him, then smile. "I'm thtill mad at you, you thtill do not get to hear me thay it yet."

"Perfectly fair, just vwanted to say it one last time before I get skinned and my father has my horns mounted on his vwall," Cronus replies shakily, and then the two of you are standing next to the knot of parents and they're all looking at you.

"Tho," Buzsis begins, arms crossed over his chest. "How long hath thith been going on?"

You swallow, the words caught in your throat as you avoid looking at your papa. He looks between you and Cronus, his eyes narrowed as he thinks about something, and you can feel the heat of your blood flooding your face. "A while." you eventually manage to croak out, your throat feeling drier than it ever has before. "Thince a week after I met him at the market."

"How long ago was that?" your papa asks, his arms crossed over his own chest now, his posture tilted back so that he can look at the two of you without turning his head.

"About three months, sir." Cronus answers for you, pulling your hand up and forward. His chin lifts, and for the first time, you wonder how in the hell you didn't realize that he was an Ampora, that he was one of the two Princes, that he was the Bard of Hope. When you think about it, when you look back, it makes sense, but it never occurred to you to put it together. "I vwas standing vwhere I shouldn't havwe been, and he and I met, and then I fell immediately in lovwe."

"I thought you were theeing that boy at the market, the one that hid hith neck." your father frowns, then looks closely at Cronus's neck. You can see the moment he realizes it in his eyes, both of his eyebrows rising so quickly that they almost disappear into his hair. "Well."

"So," your papa begins, and you close your eyes as a tide of worry washes over you. "How long have you known you were dating Prince Orphaner?"

And that's when the worry switches over to being about Cronus.

At your side, he goes stiff, his top lip pulling back just the slightest amount to show his extremely sharp teeth. You nudge him, and he stills, smiling gently at you. "I kind of hid it from him," Cronus admits. "I vwas trying to see if someone could fall in lovwe vwith me for me, not just my title." he ducks his head a little, cheeks a soft purple color. "I used makeup and scarvwes and other things to hide avway my blood status and my full self. In the process, I fell in lovwe vwith him, and I hid it from him evwen more fiercely, fearing that he vwouldn't lovwe me anymore if he knewv."

Mayulk laughs softly, pats his sons head, then turns to your parents. "I believwe, considering that it is the joining of our families, vwe have much to discuss. Shall we continue inside?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we start skipping around in the timeline, after this chapter!


	6. ==> BE KURLOZ MAKARA

==> BE KURLOZ MAKARA

 

It happens on one of the few days you manage to get away from your training to go see Meenah and Cronus.

You're in the market, having let them go on ahead and meet up with Mituna, having hung back so that you could speak with one of the guards that work there. The two of you are currently discussing security in the Market, the same security that allows you and the other two young royals to roam freely in disguise.

(It's not much of a disguise when three sets of parents and a good portion of the population recognizes you.) 

A clattering sound off to the side makes your attention shift slightly, running footsteps coming into hearing range. Despite the fact that the only troll you know who runs in the Market is Mituna, it doesn't sound like him. There's more than one set of feet hitting the ground.

Trying to ignore it and continue the conversation, the guard one of the ones who learned sign language to speak with you, you nearly roll your eyes when the running comes even closer. It isn't until you hear something that makes your blood pusher freeze in your chest that you break off in the middle of a word. You turn away from her at the sound of pained shouts, watch as a figure clad in red stumbles through the crowd and towards an alley.

Following closely behind is a group of boys, anger on their faces and grins twisting their lips.

Deciding that you should follow as well, you bid a good day to the troll you were speaking with, hands tucking into the pockets of your shorts, strolling almost leisurely after the group you spotted. It's only when you hear a high pitched shriek that you speed up, and you arrive at the lip of the alley just as a couple of the boys approach the troll that had run into it.

Curled up in the corner is the figure in red, hands wrapped protectively around their head, nails digging in tightly as they whimper in a mixture of pain and fear.

 _'And what,'_ you force your way into the apparent attacker's minds, already knowing that Meenah is going to yell at you about it. 'Is it that you motherfuckers think you're doing?'. When they turn to look at you, lips pulled back in fang exposing snarls, you let your eyes glow a deep purple color associated with your chucklevoodoo.

One of the trolls rears back, shouting a moment later. "C'mon! He's not worth it! Let's get out of here!"

The sound of retreating feet causes the troll curled up in the corner to peer between his arms at his surroundings cautiously. When he doesn't spot anyone right away, not even you, he slowly gets to his feet, falling backward with a squeak when you offer him a hand to help him up.

"Oh!" the troll blushes, and you find yourself oddly charmed, the color of his blood showing clearly on his pale skin. "I'm so sorry, I did not see you there."

You offer your hand again, smiling, this time, watch the smaller troll's fingers curl around it as he takes it, stands slowly and blinks in the moonlight. The heat coming off of his skin makes your head swim a little.

"You look awfully familiar." the troll peers closely at you, and you notice the red mark on his forehead, obvious now that you're this close to him. It looks painted on his skin but you know that if it's what is looks like, it's more likely tattooed. It's the shape of an eye, a line extending out in each direction of the compass. "Have we met before?"

You shake your head and shrug, tapping the troll's forehead and then your own. Probing cautiously, you whisper into the smaller troll's mind, _'I'm Kurloz. You?'_ He doesn't even startle at your mental voice, and that's when you know that he is a Seer.

Eyes wide, the smaller troll blinks at you for a minute, then tucks some of his hair behind his ear. "I'm Kankri. You speak telepathically?"

_'Yes.'_

Kankri leans closer, inspecting your face closely. "You still look extremely familiar to me."

Putting a finger to your lip, you look around, leaning closer as well as if you're going to reveal a secret. Truthfully, you are, and he seems to realize that as his ears twitch.

 _'I think I'd look familiar to most of the motherfuckers around here, actually, if any one of them were to actually look at me closely.'_ you smile again, stitches pulling at your lips. _'I don't think any of them expect one of the Princes to be wandering around with them.'_

Hissing out a breath, Kankri pulls back, drops to his knees on the ground, his forehead pressed into the backs of his hands. "You're the Prince of Rage!" he whimpers, shaking like its winter and he's naked.

 _'Get up?'_ you wince, looking over your shoulder. _'There's a fucking reason for the clothes and makeup and the not being followed by a group of guards.'_

Kankri is still trembling as he nods and stands again, eyes still fixed on the ground. "Am- Am I in trouble for talking to you?"

_'No.'_

"Am I going to be punished for-"

_'NO!'_

Kankri shrinks back, reaches a hand up to clasp around his own shoulder, tucks his chin into the hollow created by it. "I don't know why you're speaking with me, then." The way he looks makes your blood pusher ache, and you think you know why Cronus was so stupid about Mituna when the two of them met.

_'They were hurting you, weren't they?'_

Biting his bottom lip, Kankri nods.

_'That's why. Motherfuckers weren't up to anything good, so I stopped them.'_

"You..." Kankri finally meets your eyes as a small smile spreads on his lips. "You intervened to keep me safe."

You nod, stepping closer, and you pause before you lay a hand on Kankri's chin, drawing his face towards yours. _'You're the Seer of Blood. You should have been kept safe by the fuckers back at your sanctuary.'_

"Truthfully, there's not much that they can do." Kankri whispers, words trailing off as he stares at your face, leans into your hand. "I have but one protector and they have their claws full with arranging my training."

You make a sound of discontent, can feel the deep noise vibrating out from your chest as you lean closer to the mutant blood, the heat from the smaller body radiating into your skin. 'I'll be your protector then.'

"But you're a Prince."

_'Doesn't matter.'_

Kankri, about to argue again, squeaks in surprise as you press your lips together without further preamble. The stitches make it a little difficult to kiss him, but after a moment, he relaxes into it and pulls you closer, one of his small hands burying itself in your hair. Your purr into the sensation, a muted sound vibrating between your lips.

"Yeah, get it buoy!" Someone shouts from behind you, causing you to tense up and wrap an arm around Kankri's waist. "He ain't half bad lookin' either! Where'd you find him?"

Kankri ducks his head into your shoulder, hiding behind it, cheeks bright red. Meenah comes closer, and you almost wish she wouldn't. Eyes going wide as he watches her approach, Kankri swallows heavily.

"So what's his name?" she asks, a hip cocked and a hand braced on it. "What's a gull gotta do to learn about her best frond's new toy?"

"If he's the Prince of Rage," Kankri whispers, fear closing up his throat, "Does that mean that you're the Thief of Life? As in, the Queen's heir?" he shivers in your arms, and you don't know what even possessed you to be where you are right now, but you are not going to complain. You are, however, going to keep Kankri safe, even from Meenah and her prying ways.

"It does!" she bounces gleefully on her toes. "Meenah, bee-tee-dubs. Call me Condesce and lose yer damn head."

Kankri swallows heavily, breathing getting shallower until you stick an arm between the two of them, pulling Kankri closer. Meenah snaps her head around to stare at you in confusion, eyes wide as you speak into her mind.

"Damn!" she mutters, rubbing at her fins. "Don't have to yell, jackass!"

You gather Kankri even closer, outright picking him up and tucking his legs around your waist as you start walking. Meenah follows behind you, smirking when you turn out of the alleyway and down the main path out of the marketplace.

 _'Tell me which way to go?'_ you speak softly into Kankri's mind, almost unsure of how to do anything gently. _'Taking you to your home, going to ask your guardian something.'_

Stunned, slightly unaware of what is happening, and still in shock, Kankri tells you, tapping almost effortlessly into the mental connection you established earlier. When you nod, he leans in even closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, tucking his face into your neck. The surge of protective anger on his behalf makes your knees a little weak, and you do your best to hold him close enough to hear his blood pusher beating in his chest.

To your side, you can see the surprise on Meenah's face.

Before she can say anything about it, you cut her off with a brief shake of your head. It's not too long before you begin thinking that it may have been a bad idea to pick the Seer up. If you thought the heat of his body was intoxicating when it was his hand in yours and lips pressed to lips, it was nothing compared to what having him in your arms and curled into your chest is doing to you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kurloz, honey...You...Alright, fine, nevermind. 
> 
> Yay for arriving at this point!


	7. ==> BE THE PAST EMPRESS

==> BE THE PAST EMPRESS

You cannot do that, as there was no past Empress. There was a Queen and a King.

==> FINE. BE THE QUEEN.

You are now the Queen.

Which means, of course, that you have always been. Nothing else would make sense, right?

Your older daughter is hanging out with her fellow royals, out in the streets of your Kingdom, and you know about it. You have decided to allow it only so long as she stays with them. It's really much safer if she stays with them.

The thought of her being killed while out with those two is unthinkable.

They simply would not allow it, and you are worry free as you preen over your youngest, fluffing the curls of black around her face. She squeals in delight, a chirpy trill of a sound, and you can feel your blood pusher ache at how sweet she is. Your matesprite sits behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and you hold your hands out to your wiggler.

As unexpected as she was, it is wonderful to have another this young.

A sound out in the hallway makes you look up from your play, fingers still guiding Feferi onto her feet and helping her dance around in silly little circles. After a moment, you brush it off as nothing more than one of the servants, and you look back at your daughter.

Your name is Empeta Peixes, and everything in your life right now is wonderful.

The doors burst open, your main bodyguard slamming it behind himself. Having ducked in after he opened it, his two sons are leaned against it with him. All three of them are panting, chests heaving with the exertion of running through what you think might be the entirety of the palace.

The current Darkleer, Caelus, your guard, is covered in what looks like the blood of the Amporas.

When he notices you looking, he nods, not saying anything for a moment. The silence passes between you, and you nudge your matesprite off of your hips, shaking him from his sleepy stupor. "Hmm?" he mutters, and you direct him to stand. When he does, he offers you his hand and you take it, leaning back down to scoop Feferi into your arms.

"Caelus?" you whisper.

Caelus puts his finger to his lips, shaking his head in warning. Horuss, his eldest son, thrusts a broken bow into the handles of the doors, effectively locking them. "My Queen," Caelus addresses you, going into the informal bow that you prefer when information needs to be traded quickly. "There is a riot outside. I come from the home of the Amporas, Ipibre and Mayulk are dead. I could not find any trace of their son."

His youngest son, Equius, comes trotting across the room, eyes searching for Feferi in the shelter of your hair.

"Their son," you can feel the fear rising in your throat. "Is out with my daughter."

With a noise of relief, Caelus nods, sinking as far as he can into the wall as if trying to meld his body with it. The solemn mood brought about by his appearance is broken when Equius asks, in his almost shrill voice, "Is Princess Feferi alright?"

You laugh, then kneel so that Feferi can pat his head. "She is fine, thank you for asking," you assure him. "Caelus, what of the Makaras?"

"I have had contact with Izmeis." he takes a deep breath, shoves himself away from the wall and towards you. Horuss follows him, the look on his face one of intense terror being pushed away in favor of anger. "He has taken his youngest son to the hidden home of his family. If he should fall, Kurloz knows where to look." He shakes his head. "But my Queen, I fear we must depart at this moment."

He gestures for Horuss to help you.

The noise outside the door is getting louder. You're already packing a bag of Feferi's things, your matesprite is handling your own belongings and you have never before realized that he had taken to heart all the lectures that your mother gave him when you met him. In particular, the ones about what to do in such an event as what appears to be happening. You can hear the voices now, the pounding footsteps of the mob outside.

As you pack, you ask Caelus, "What has brought this about? Do you know?"

"Some man," he tells you. "He looks human, appears almost to be one at first. I suspect, however, that he is a carapace."

"The Chess people," you nod, hand Feferi the toy she is grasping for, then hand her bag off to Equius when he holds his arms out for it. He is small, not yet grown into the size that you know comes from his bloodline. "They have mounted an attack on our Kingdom?"

"Only one of them," he responds, still near the door. On his back is another bow, a quiver of arrows that you had crafted specifically for him. For a moment, when he looks at you again, you still see the young troll boy that you have known since you were pupated. "His name, according to what little information I have gathered, is Jack Noir. He is a nuisance, and he is known amongst his own people for stirring up trouble."

You hear a shattering sound, and Caelus turns back to the door. "My Queen, you must go." he gestures at his sons. "Horuss, Equius, go with her. It is your duty to make sure that the royal bloodlines live." He put a hand on his eldest's shoulder and you see them both frown, the sheer terror in Horuss's eyes outweighing any of the strict logic and rational that you know he possesses.

"Father-" he shakes his head.

Caelus knocks their foreheads together, shakes his own head in return. "You, my son, are the Darkleer now. Your duty is to protect the Queen and her children. Now go." he orders softly.

Horuss nods, one last desperate look at his father. "Yes sir," he whispers, salutes him briefly, then turns to you and your matesprite. "We must go," he tells you, and you can see that he's not nearly ready to be the soldier he's expected to be right now. He walks closer to you, picks his brother up off the floor, Feferi's bag and all, and escorts you to the passage in the wall that your matesprite has already opened.

You look back. "Caelus?"

"Go, my Queen," he calls to you, the pounding on the door loud enough to echo the pounding of your blood pusher as you watch him shift into a battle stance. Horuss pulls the wall shut as the bow he jammed into the handles starts creaking ominously.

The last view you get of your lifelong friend is of him firing arrows into a mob of people.

Your matesprite is urging you along now, and you almost feel like throwing him off and running back out into the room. Horuss joins in, and the group of you make it down the dark hallways that lead into the back garden of your castle. When you can almost taste the fresh air, you start to hear voices and you know that it's already over.

You turn to Horuss, kiss his forehead as you shove Feferi into his arms. "Go," you whisper, ignoring his confusion, ignoring the protests he voices as you make him carry your daughter away.

Your matesprite is at your side, your blood pusher is in your throat, and you can feel the anger of the mob in front of you. Hatred slicks off of their bodies like water off an incline, and you wait for it to come to a head. You won't fight back, you already know that. You've always been better at using your words than your fists, and you are grateful that Meenah has had training from Caelus to make her able to use both.

The reminder of him hurts your chest.

The last thing you know is the pain of a blade that replaces that hurt, warps it into something worse. You have to hope that Meenah, Cronus, and Kurloz had the sense to grab their weapons, had the sense to flee when they needed to.

And then you don't know anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have a cute moment that immediately turns sad.


	8. Chapter 8

==> BE PAST MEENAH

Your first thought is that someone needs to douse the fire in the hearth of their home.

You can smell fire, and it's not a good scent. It reminds you too much of being sick and being too small to do anything other than sleep and wait to get better. You have never liked being helpless.

At your side, Cronus is talking to Mituna, an arm slung over the smaller troll's shoulders. On the other side of you, Kurloz has his fingers tangled together with Kankri's, the two of them exuding the dark purple glow from their eyes that you know means they're talking using Chucklevoodoo.

You would feel left out except for the fact that they're your friends and they rarely do this.

The five of you round a corner, and your mind switches into a panic.

There's fire curling from the upper windows of your home, and now that you look around, there's a startling lack of anyone out on the street. Cronus tugs Mituna closer as he looks at you, a question on his lips that you're not able to answer.

"Vwhat's going on?"

Kankri swivels on his toes and looks towards the temple he lives in. There is nothing but smoke-filled air in that direction. "I-" he begins, voice catching in his throat as the smoke finally reaches you. It chokes you too, burning whatever it was that might be said from your tongue. Kurloz nods at him, a hand on his shoulder, then presses their foreheads together and motions at you in the language you had been taught to communicate with him.

Kankri darts upwards, presses a quick kiss to Kurloz's jaw, then turns and runs towards the temple.

At his side, you can see Kurloz's hand clench into a fist, like he's keeping himself from running after him. You turn away from the sight at the sound of voices, your blood pusher clenching up as you realize that there's a mob of people headed directly for the four of you. Cronus reaches over, grabs your hand, and starts running.

Kurloz signs something at you, a flash of symbols, and then turns to run after Kankri.

"Come on, Princess!" Cronus hisses when you turn back to watch your friend. Mituna is leading the way, his legs giving him an advantage over his matesprite. He may be shorter, but his legs are longer, and he is better at running.

The reminder strikes you, makes your shoulders rise, makes you remember what it was that your mother's guard taught you.

"Aim for the throat, Princess. Never go directly for the face unless you are using a weapon." he directs you to attack him, to rush forward and try to hurt him.

Despite the fact that you know you will never beat him, you run forward anyway.

The screams of the mob intensify, and you switch places with Cronus. You drag him behind you now, clutch for Mituna's hand. When you have it, you put on a burst of speed, looking desperately around for something to use.

A dark alleyway catches your eye, and you dive towards it, dragging the two of them behind you.

A moment passes, the three of you breathing raggedly, Cronus clutching at his side. Despite the lanky thinness of him, the soft curve of gently developed muscles, he's out of shape in a way that could get him killed in this situation. Another moment passes, and you look at Mituna, then back at Cronus. "Have either of you got a weapon?" you ask, voice quiet but still sounding so loud in the alley.

Cronus nods, taking a shaky deep breath as he leans down and pulls a knife out of the sheath underneath his pants.

On the other hand, Mituna simply gives you a look, tapping softly at his forehead. "Always do," he assures you, voice barely more than a breath, almost so quiet that it could be passed off as the wind picking up.

You see someone go sprinting past the entrance to your hiding place, a torch in their hand. Around you, the smell of fire coats the air and eradicates any thought of a fresh breath.

Cronus nudges the knife into your hand, pulling out another one from his second sheath, a look of fear on his face. The three of your rearrange, Mituna on one side and Cronus on the other, with you in the middle. You try to protest, try to tell him that he's-

He cuts you off with a one-armed hug, pulls you close and nuzzles the top of your head. "No." is all he says before the three of you are heading out the other end of the alley.

You know the path you're walking on, you know the way you're heading.

The three of you slip through the darkness between buildings, and now you can smell blood.

It rests alongside the scent of fire, soot flying through the air as you try to breathe. On the ground, you can see puddles of different colors of blood, and each one is almost a stab in your heart. The three of you are headed for Mituna's hive, the path you're taking is one of the most direct.

You see a few bodies, just laying in the street, and you suppress a whine.

One of the streets you turn on is all but deserted, and you almost keep walking until you realize who it is that's lying down while someone hovers over them. The familiar shape of Kurloz's hair makes your blood pusher stop for a moment because he's sitting on the ground with Kankri's head in his lap.

Kankri isn't moving.

A shout behind you makes Cronus turn and Mituna's eyes are glowing now, red and blue crackles of power leaping around his face. It's almost to the point that it looks familiar, the same power that scarred Cronus when they had first gotten together. You take off at the same time Cronus does, Mituna leading the way as you both dip down and wrap an arm around Kurloz's waist.

On the ground behind you, Kankri doesn't move.

Something wet hits your arm.

It's three streets later that the four of you slow down, allow Kurloz down onto his own feet. The front of his outfit is saturated in candy red blood, the look in his eyes lost and full of despair. His makeup is ruined by purple trails that run down his cheeks and disappear somewhere underneath his chin.

The four of you are tucked into an alcove created by the front of a shop, and Kurloz is covered in his matesprite's blood, and there's a look of hatred slowly replacing the despair and you take a deep breath, your lungs clogged with soot and smoke. Cronus's breath is ragged now, and he's clutching his matesprite close, leaning on him. It doesn't look like he can stand on his own right now.

Kurloz turns on you, slowly, anger radiating off of him, his shoulders drawing up as if to make himself bigger.

Carefully, Mituna and Cronus take a step back, and you raise your hands, trying to placate him. "Was he dead?" you whisper, and the small nod that Kurloz replies with makes your stomach turn. "We need you alive." you can barely get the words out, tears starting to form in your eyes as you think about what has been lost.

With a grunt, Kurloz backs away from you.

Attached to his waist is the club he always carries, the handle slotted through the balls and chains of the trinket Kankri had hand forged for him, had delicately carved their initials together on, had given him to hold onto his weapon.

You wince and step back.

With a muffled howl, Kurloz reaches up to his face and slashes his claws across his lips until the stitches come undone and he can scream out loud. He rips his club off of his waist, swinging it in his hand as he snarls wordlessly.

He lets out one last test swing, then turns towards the mob that has found you.

With a grumble of noise that sounds like the end of the world, he starts tearing through the mob of people like they're nothing more than paper. With every breath he takes, he lets out a noise that could, in civilized company, be labeled as a honk.

To you, it sounds more like a war cry.

You watch, in horrified fascination, as Kurloz stands still finally, breathing heavily, claws digging into the handle of his club. He turns to look at the three of you, Mituna's power still sparking, and wrinkles one of his destroyed lips at you. You follow slowly as he walks away, as he heads for the palace.

Every person you come across, the ones that attack you, meets their end on his club, a snarled honk marking their death like he's keeping track.

You lose count when it gets somewhere into the forties.

Cronus and Mituna limp along behind you, Cronus's gills working overtime as they try to filter out the contaminants in the air. He looks half unconscious, and that's what makes you slip under his other arm.

Eventually, the four of you get back to the palace, and when you walk through the doors, Izmeis is on the floor, clutching at a gaping hole in his side, fangs bared at the sound of footsteps. At the sight of his son, covered in blood and arms coated so thick that his own skin cannot be seen beneath it, Izmeis grumbles in approval. He gestures Kurloz closer, and Kurloz seems to calm down, his club still clenched tightly in one hand as he drops to the floor beside his father.

Izmeis whispers something to him, and Kurloz jerks back, eyes betraying the amount of surprise. You're about to ask when Izmeis lets out a wet sounding cough, a death rattle, and then goes still.

You watch, helpless, as Kurloz pulls his father's spiked club out of his hands, leaving his own in its place.

A gaggle of servants comes running in, all of them in states of disarray. At the head of the group is one you vaguely recognize as the head of the kitchen, a plump troll with horns that jerk out sideways from her head. She's carrying a pan that has several dents in it, splattered with blood. The moment she sees you, she bows, orders some of the others to help Cronus. Your own gills are starting to ache, the stillness of your current location making you aware of the soot trying to strain through the delicate frills on your neck.

Cronus is pulled from your shoulders, laid down on the floor as cool clean water is poured over his gills in an attempt to clear them.

You follow their movements for a minute, then turn and walk away, heading to the room that you know your sister and mother would have been in. The door is open when you get there, the body of Caelus on the floor. His head is split open, right between his horns, and you gag at the sight of the dark blue blood that has long since stopped seeping out. His arms are broken, and one of his legs is bent at an angle that suggests violence was done to him but he kept going anyways.

The passageway that hides in the wall is open too, and you can see the blood that ran through your mother's veins coating the wall. Her body is on the floor inside the room like someone dragged her there. Her feet are bare, and still partially in the tunnel.

Your father lies next to her, a hand on her waist.

From the trail of blood leading to his corpse, he must have crawled to her, reached for her one last time as he died. Her death was brutal, but it looks like it was fast. He, as the Queen's consort and matesprite, wasn't the one they were trying to leave a message with. They didn't care if he lived or if he died, all they had done was hurt him to get him out of the way and left him to bleed.

You feel a spike of pain, and you find that you dropped to the floor, your knees hitting first.

It's only when you realize that you can't see Feferi in the room that you start crying, shoulders shaking so heavily that you think you're going to fall apart. Her toys are gone. You sit there, in a room full of the corpses of people you loved, and you cry until the tears stop coming. Your throat aches and your lungs ache and your eyes ache and there is nothing you can do. Eventually, someone finds you there, pulls you close to their chest and digs their fingers into your hair.

As they try to pull you away, you notice that Caelus's clothing is stained in the same blood color that runs through Cronus's veins. There are bruises on his arms and face that look older than the rest of his wounds, and you know that most of the Amporas are dead.

You shake as they pull you from the room, and it isn't until you feel your throat burning that you realize you're screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Uh...
> 
> I did mention I wanted to write sad things for this story, right?


	9. ==> BE PAST KURLOZ

==> BE PAST KURLOZ

You are now past Kurloz.

Your claws are digging into the worn handle of the club your father always carried, and you're heading back to the palace for the second time. There's a grub in your arms, his needle-like teeth digging into your shoulder, and you can feel his little blood pusher beating faster than you imagined one could ever go.

His name is Gamzee, and he is your father's second child. He is your brother.

Right now, between chewing on your shoulder, he's letting out little screeches of fear. You curl him closer, allow him to dig his little grub legs into your chest, but otherwise offer no comfort. He is nearly at pupation age, and you are going to have to raise him now.

A nagging thought of the egg that you and K- Your matesprite had put down in the hatching caverns drags at your mind, and you try to push it away as you re-enter the building. Your club feels odd, unfamiliar and reassuring at the same time. If the egg survived, if the mutation that made it so that he produced only one didn't end up killing the grub, you would have two to raise. Gamzee shrieks again, a sound of desperation, and you ease your grip on him slightly. You find the room that Cronus is in, and you sit next to his bed.

There's blood coming out of his gills, and it makes you want to beat something into bloody submission.

Mituna sits next to you, his hands wrapped tightly around one of Cronus's as if he could keep his matesprite alive and safe simply by dragging him back. On the other side of the bed is Meenah, and her knees are drawn up to her chest, her eyes unfocused and staring off into nothingness.

At the sight of the three other trolls, Gamzee squeaks. In his voice, there's a demand for food, and at once, there's another troll coming over, something for him to eat in her hands.

You stare at her for a moment, then relinquish your brother to her.

Gamzee digs happily into the food, a soft background noise to the numbness that's starting to well up inside of your chest. Cronus's breathing is shallow, the damage from the soot in the air almost too much for his body to handle. You assume that Meenah is similarly damaged, but to a lesser extent, because her gills are flared out, the fins on the side of her face wiggling slowly as her body tries to breathe without her being aware of the world around her.

Another servant comes over to you, one eye a pulpy mess of blood and what looks like bone fragments. They bow, dropping to the floor as they explain something to you. You can't hear the words, however, the rush of blood in your ears too loud for you to understand.

They see your blank look.

When they try to ask something else and you don't answer them, they turn to the side and pull a cart of medical supplies close. They point to your face and pantomime cleaning it, holding up a bottle of what you know is going to sting and make it so that there are no infections. You nod slowly, heave a sigh, and look towards where your brother is.

Gamzee chirps at you and the troll you handed him off to bring him back, settles him in your arm. You look down at him, head tilted to the side, and stare. He stares back until his eyes start blinking slowly shut.

With a sleeping grub in your lap, you sit there until the ragged edges of your lip are clean of all the blood that can be wiped away.

Mituna looks at you, all wide eyes and blood splattered clothes and says nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Uprisings! Mutiny! Treason! Death!
> 
> If you're liking this, let me know!


	10. ==> BE ???

==> BE ???

The entire room is loud and you really don't want to be here.

It is a necessity but it is one you do not appreciate for anything other than what it brings to the people you care for. 

"Vwhere did they say you vwere from, again?" Prince Orphaner asks with a look on his face that seems to be torn between sheer terror and almost blindingly sharp hope.

"A settlement in the forests," you answer, bowing slightly as he approaches, choosing to ignore the way he barged through the crowd to reach you. If you're really truthful with yourself, you have to admit that it seemed familiar, even though you know that you have never been this close to anyone of the current three royals. "I come as a diplomat, and I wish to re-open communication between the settlements and the Royal Cities."

"Sounds great!" he nearly squeaks the words out, eyes darting in a panicked rush over your face, as if he's looking for something.

In the end, he draws back, eyes still wide and mildly perturbed. You think about asking him what's wrong, but you don't. The wrong word in the wrong place, you remember being told, could get you culled. The wrong blood color in the wrong place WOULD get you culled. You know that you're already risking one.

You know that you shouldn't chance the other.

He bows to you, and it's only when he walks away again that it registers in your mind that he shouldn't have done that. Royals aren't supposed to bow to diplomats, or anyone other than the Empress. You look to the side, trying to spot Porrim in the crowd, trying to spot anyone that you know. The mass of bodies and unfamiliar faces makes your head spin slightly.

With a small sigh, you close your eyes and think about asking where the nursery is. You know that Porrim and Aranea put their wigglers in there, and perhaps what you need right now is a bit of respite from the bright lights and the noise of hundreds of people talking at once.

The longing that springs up when you see a pair of matesprites makes your blood pusher ache and the desperation for a different setting drags at you even more.

The bright red stripes down your suit make you wish that you had held onto you cloak when you entered the ballroom. Less than thirty feet from you is the open door to the balcony, and despite it being open, the heat of the bodies around you is overpowering the slight breeze that is coming in from outside. The stripes aren't all that obvious, and you know that your blood color is rare enough that you could pass it off as simply liking the color, but it still makes you feel exposed.

You swing your head to the side and think again about visiting the wigglers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major timeskip! About seven years from the last chapter.


	11. ==> BE THE PRINCE CONSORT

==> BE THE PRINCE CONSORT

 

You are now the Prince Consort.

Your name is Mituna Captor, and you are looking almost wildly through the crowd of the gathering, trying to find the sometimes scatterbrained troll that you've hooked yourself to. You know he's around here somewhere, and for a while, you think that he might have snuck off to avoid the crowds that persisted in jamming you awkwardly into walls.  
When a sharp-clawed hand grabs the back of your collar, causing you to let out an undignified squeak, a familiar laugh rings in your ears. "Ain't one of you shellfish bastards realizing who this is?"

You nearly go limp out of relief.

On your own, you are not an imposing figure. You still lack the most recent growth spurts that others your age have received. Despite your psionic abilities, very few actually recognize you without your lover next to you. Having Meenah retrieve you from the crowd is actually one of the better possible outcomes.

Speaking of, she sets you gently on the ground next to her, helping you brush off your suit and straighten it out again. "I swear, buoy, every time we have a party, you get caught up in some muck like this, and one of us has to rescue you."

Not even time itself could separate Meenah from her fish puns, even if it has toned them down considerably.

"Wouldn't be an ithue if thomeone wouldn't leave me alone." you mutter, because you're starting to get irritated at Cronus now. You cast a desperate glance around the room again, but you know it's almost no use. If he hasn't shown up by now, you're going to spend the rest of the night looking for him so that you can drag him back and hide in his rooms with him.

Which, you think, wouldn't be too bad of a situation right now.

"Oh, there he is." Meenah points out the moment you've spotted his almost ridiculous collared long coat, the deep purple of his blood worn in an obvious statement of who he is. Instead of looking happy to see you two, he simply looks worried, and the moment that you realize that it puts you on edge.

He takes your hand, and you can feel your blood pusher speed up, even though the two of you have been together for nearly five sweeps now. "I need to speak with you," he mutters quietly, and that's when you know that something's wrong.

Reaching out, he takes Meenah's hand as well, bowing briefly and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. If you three were in private, you know that she'd smack him for it. Since you're in plain view of the admiring public, she simply allows it, then gestures for him to move on.

"No." he whispers to her, eyes going fractionally wider. "I need to talk to both of you."

She gets it then, you think, and you can see her jaw working as she tries to read the expression on his face. After a moment, she nods, taking his offered elbow and walking with the two of you to a secluded hall. "What's going on?"

"I think Kankri is still alive." he pushes the words out quickly, and the look of relief and terror that tears across his face makes you ache to pull him close and wipe it away so that he won't be so scared. When the words sink in, you and Meenah exchange a look. She breaks off first, readjusting her bangs with careful fingers, trying not to upset the hairstyle that had taken an hour to put together.

"Why do you think that?" she asks quietly, and you can feel your lungs aching, trying to remind you to breathe.

Cronus meets her eyes, his own still wide, and he spares a brief glance up towards the ceiling. "Because I was talking to him." he takes a deep breath, and you find yourself breathing at the same time as him. "Apparently, he's a diplomat, from one of the forest settlements on the edges of the empire."

Meenah looks up at the ceiling as well, fins twitching as she listens closely for the telltale creaks of his movements. "He doesn't need to know, not unless we're sure."

"I'm telling you, he had the tattoo, the voice, the mannerisms, everything!" Cronus's fingers wrap tighter around yours, and you drag his hand to your lips, trying to soothe before he explodes. "He even smelled mostly the same, except for the differences you would expect from a change in location."

"Do you know where-" she broke off, trying to think of something that you can't understand. "When did he get here?"

"A while ago. We're at the point where the Empress in training greeting them personally would be rude. I'd say go ahead, otherwise." Cronus drags a hand heavy with rings down his face, and you reach up to take it between your own, sandwiching both of them and curling his fingertips down until you can press kisses to each knuckle in turn. "You would appear to have been doing it on purpose, at this point. Visiting diplomats have a window of an hour or so, remember?"

"Damn it." Meenah hisses, her fangs exposed for just a second. At thirteen sweeps old, she's technically grown up, but you can still see the eight sweeps old girl she had been when you met her.

"I can go," you remind them. "There'th nothing that thtopth me."

Cronus looks at you for a moment, then grins like you just handed him the world. The scars on the right side of his face pull at the edges of it, but he doesn't care. "You, Tuna Fish, are brilliant," he whispers, leaning forward to kiss you softly, nudging his nose into yours to bring you to the right angle for it.

You kiss him back, reaching up to press your thumbs briefly into his cheeks, then step back and compose yourself. With a half-assed salute, you head off in the direction he provides, feeling the anxiety building in your stomach as you search for the friend you lost three and a half sweeps before.

You find him.

At least, it looks like him. He's standing in the crowd of people around him, near the edge. It looks a bit like he's trying to escape.

Hiding underneath the hair hanging over his forehead is brilliant red of the tattoo associated with the Seer of Blood. You can feel your blood pusher swell, your chest barely containing it. You know, the moment that you see the artificial pigment, that this is him.

He looks confused, and possibly a bit startled when you pop up out of the crowd, but his smile is sincere and his greeting is full of the kindness that you remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look who's still alive.


	12. ==> BE THE SIGNLESS

==> BE THE SIGNLESS

That's not too difficult, but you could ask in a kinder tone of voice.

==> Please?

Alright.

You are the Signless. Much like your name implies, you don't have a sign, and you don't have an actual name. Acting as a placeholder is your title, and the sign of the Dolorosa, who stepped up to adopt you when it was discovered that you were alive.

Not, in fact, that you needed to be adopted, but you didn't dare argue with her when she had made up her mind.

You're currently in a building full of trolls that are showing off their blood color through lavishly expensive clothes and jewelry, and it makes you more than a little fearful to know that the Dolorosa is nowhere to be found in the throng. Just as you're about to give up on the point of this diplomatic mission from your home, a troll arrives at your side and gestures out onto the balcony.

He gives you a soft salute, hand clenched against his chest in polite greeting.

When you return the gesture, he softens as well, giving you a smile and gesturing, once again, for you to follow. You almost decline until you realize that he wishes to speak with you. You figure that there's no danger, not in the main royal housing in the middle of the Empire's biggest city.  
Not with the three royals in attendance, even though you yourself have only seen two of the three.

Stepping out onto the balcony makes you feel immediately better, and as you watch him lean on the railing, you realize that it's the same for him. "Is this sort of event always this crowded?" you ask him quietly, rubbing gently at the back of your neck.

"Almotht alwayth." he laments, and you smile at the gentle lisp to his words. His clothing, unlike yours, gives away his blood status in a muted yellow color. The black lines of his sign line his chest and hips, and it makes you quietly wish that you had one of your own to show off. "Fortunately, Cronuth can uthually be perthuaded to hide with me after a time, after he'th done hith thhare of greeting people."

Oh. Of course, that makes the possibility of danger go down even further. He has a matesprite.

"Tho..." he begins, as if he's searching for the right words. "Why are you thtuck being here today?" he gestures at the party, then at your clothes. "You don't theem too drethy, which meanth you're not trying to impreth thomeone, but you're not completely pauper looking either. That tellth me that you're here for buthineth."

"I come as a diplomat," you hear yourself explaining for the second time that night. The first time had been to the prince, and it wasn't abnormal for the question to be asked repeatedly. "I'm visiting from one of the forest settlements, and we're hoping to get things underway so that communication can be acquired. It has broken down over the sweeps, our news is terribly outdated in connection to the happenings of the capital city."

He makes a face. It's a mixture of amusement and something that could almost be termed confusion. "Why a foretht thettlement?"

"I..." you trail off, and you can feel your eyes dragging down to stare at the ground. "I woke up there, and I could not move on my own for a long time. I was taken into the care of one of the locals, and she helped to raise me to the age I am now."

"Why couldn't you move?"

There it is, the question you had dreaded. Most trolls, when they find out about the events that led to your current life, try to take advantage of it in some way or another. Surprisingly, however, he doesn't seem interested in weaknesses. "I was heavily injured. I sustained multiple broken bones, as well as a punctured lung, and they weren't sure that I would survive the night, let alone the week."

"What else?"

"Memory loss." You find yourself telling him, a shiver of wonder at how smoothly the words flow from your lips as you speak with him. Talking to him almost feels like you're talking to someone you've known your whole life.

You know that that's impossible.

"...Memory loss?" you feel him turn towards you, rather than see it. "You lost your memories?"

"Most of them." you shrug, leaning a bit more on the railing of the balcony. Despite the relief it provided from the heat of the room earlier, it now feels achingly cold, and your chest still occasionally seizes up at the wrong time.

He looks over his shoulder at you, having leaned on the balcony as well. After a second, his gaze drifts in towards the room again. "I'll be back in a minute."

Shivering now, you nod.


	13. ==> BE THE PRINCE OF RAGE

==> BE THE PRINCE OF RAGE

 

You are not sure that that's a good idea.

 

==> BE THE THIEF OF LIFE

 

That might be a better one.

You switch to being Meenah. In front of you is the Prince of Rage, who you found wandering one of the corridors near his room. Despite his inexplicable presence, you know he's not heading down towards the party.

If the club in his hand is to be believed, he's going to go beat the shit out of something. All you can do is hope that it's not a living something.

"Kurloz-" you begin, hoping that you can calm him down just enough to get him to let go of his weapon. Instead of listening to you, he honks, an angry noise that always makes your blood pusher beat faster. "Hey!" you hiss at him when he turns away like he's going to walk off. You know better than to actually put your hand on him.

After all, the last time you touched him, you'd dragged him away from the corpse of his matesprite.

Unlike the troll you knew when he was younger, he's a bit of a mess now. The makeup he once kept in neat swirls around his eyes and mouth is now wrecked as if he hasn't visited an ablution trap in a while. It also looks like his hair has dragged through it, streaking the edges. His hair is a bit of a ratty mess like he hasn't bothered to brush it.

He snarls at you again, and you hear the footsteps of two trolls coming up behind you.

"You need to hear this," Cronus speaks first, and if it's him talking, then it's Mituna that's following along behind him. "Tuna found something out, it needs to be taken into consideration."

"Is it-" you almost can't bring yourself to ask, eyes still focused entirely on Kurloz as he tries to duck out of the gathering.

"I think it ith," Mituna speaks up, coming to a stop right next to your shoulder. He takes a look at Kurloz and sighs. "Thhould I tell him? Or do you two want to do it?" he gestures at the much larger troll. Kurloz's horns are almost scraping the ceiling at this point, the halls not designed for a troll so large as him.

"Dunno," Cronus begins, a protective hand already on Mituna's shoulder. "Kurloz? Who are you less likely to kill right now?"

Kurloz snorts, the scars from where there used to be stitches on his lips making him look even more terrifying than he used to. "Him." he snarls, deep voice making you shudder.

You look back at Mituna. "Alright, so you're up."

"Don't hurt him," Cronus mutters, and you know he's talking to Kurloz, despite the fact that the volume of it would suggest he was talking to his matesprite.

You and Cronus retreat, but you stay within a distance that you can run in and rescue the smaller troll.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Kurloz! Living up to your title, I see.


	14. Chapter 14

==> BE MITUNA

 

You swallow heavily as Kurloz stares you down, the sudden tightness in your throat nothing less than terrifying.

"I think he'th-" you start, then try again just as quickly. "There'th a troll here, tonight." you begin slowly, trying to unfold the situation from the beginning for him. "He'th a vithiting diplomat and dignitary from one of the foretht thettlementth. He'th wearing the thign of one of the leaderth there." you swallow again as his stare focuses on your face. "But it'th not his thign."

That gets him to sit up a little bit, having leaned against the wall. His voice, when he speaks, is still creaky and deep, sweeps of not using it taking their toll. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Becauthe the only color he'th wearing, other than black, ith red." you speak quickly, "And not rutht colored red."

Kurloz takes a deep breath, eyes wider than you can remember them ever being. "What?" he asks quietly, fingers clenching in the fabric of his pants. You can tell that one wrong word right now will get one of two results. And personally, you like your head where it is.

"He altho hath a very familiar tattoo on his forehead." you continue.

He looks angry now, claws digging into the palms of his hands. "Who dares look like him? Who dares to look like everything I have lost?" he snarls, and you take a step back.

"I don't think he jutht looks like him," you add quietly. "He mentioned memory loth, and having been living in the forests for thweepth now." you gesture back at Cronus and Meenah. "The three of uth thearched for weekth, and we never found his body after the attack on the city. You know that there are thome that would take the injured, no matter what thide they claimed ath their own."

You remember that day.

Kurloz had ripped the stitches out of his own mouth, had gone on a rampage and lived up to his title and public name. In the end, the fighting had only subsided because he had done so, but you lost track of how many he had killed. Kankri had been one of the first casualties, and you had come running along with Meenah and Cronus to try and get the remaining royalty out of there before he died.

Kurloz snorts quietly, bringing you back to the present.

"He was-" he starts, and you sigh. He hasn't said his matesprite's name since that day. "He died." he finishes, words unsteady, like he isn't sure.

"He admitted to memory loth when I athked," you continue on, ignoring him trying to push away the reality of it all. "He told me that he hurt too much to move for a very long while and that his memory went mithing," you take a deep breath. "I think Kankri is thtill alive, and currently thtanding out on the balcony."

Kurloz jolts like you slapped him with a psionic filled palm.

For a moment, you think you might have said the wrong thing. The moment passes, however, when you realize that he looks almost afraid.

No, you realize. He's not afraid, he's afraid to take the bit of hope that you're offering him.


	15. ==> BE THE PRINCE OF RAGE

==> BE THE PRINCE OF RAGE

 

You can do that this time.

Your name is Kurloz Makara. You have a little brother named Gamzee, from the clutch of grubs that came after yours. You are one of three royals of the current era, and your brother may yet still be one of the future ones. As it stands, he's too young to assume any control of anything.

You're standing in a hallway, with three trolls that you have known for sweeps. One of them is newer in your life, but no less familiar.

He's telling you that the matesprite you thought had died nearly four sweeps before is possibly still alive. When you tune back in to what he's saying, you realize that he's explaining that both he and his matesprite have come to the conclusion that it's the one you've been missing.

Mituna trails off, pulling a hand through his hair, avoiding the double horns that he has.

Without a word, you nod. When he backs away, you turn to Meenah, who's standing just a little ways down the hall with Cronus. Cronus looks worried until the moment his hand wraps around Mituna's shoulder, and he brings the smaller troll into his arms. You gesture for Meenah to come closer, and she does, hesitant steps eventually bringing her to your side.

"I-" you cut yourself off, trying to ignore the swell of hope in your chest, so bright and brilliant that it hurts. "I need to attend this gathering. I fear I have forgotten how to-" you gesture down at yourself, trying to remember how to speak with her in a way that isn't entirely full of hatred and rage.

Thankfully, she seems to get the hint, holding out one of her delicate hands for you to take. When you do, she leads the way into your chambers, and you think that the stairs have never taken so long to climb before.

"If we had known that he might have survived that," she whispers, "We never would have dragged you away without him."

You nod, lean forward as you walk to pet a careful finger down the thick braid of hair that reaches down her back. You remember, for a moment, what she used to look like, how she used to dress whenever she could get away with it.

You wonder if you're responsible for the change.

After you lost him, both Cronus and Meenah had started acting like the Prince and Princess that they were. They had dropped the street personas they had developed, and then they had shut themselves away in the castle with you.

If Cronus hadn't managed to find Mituna before you lost him, you're certain that he would never have met him.

When you get to your rooms, you immediately follow her gentle push towards your cleansing room. Truthfully, it's been a while since you bothered with it, not seeing any point in it if you were just having a meeting with the advisors who seem to not want anything to do with you. When she follows you in, you raise an eyebrow at her, and for a moment you see the troll you used to know. She's all sharp edges and exposed teeth and pink lips, hands curled into fists on her hips as she looks at you.

Instead of the shredded up shirt and pants she used to wear, she's now dressed in clothing befitting her station.

As you start up your shower, she snags your makeup and a brush out of your cabinets, using the edge of her skirt to hold it all. "Come out when you're done. Make sure you clean your hair!" she adds hastily, an echo of the snark you would have received before you lost him.

You nod again, and she leaves you alone.

When you finish, you walk out into your rooms with a towel around your waist, heading immediately for the wardrobe in search of clean clothes. Before you get there, Meenah appears at your side, handing you an outfit that she picked out for you. "You need to wear this." she urges, and you stare at it almost blankly.

Instead of the stripes you have taken to wearing, it's got the pattern of a rib cage on it, and she has it paired with a pair of dark purple pants.

It looks, you realize, like a modified version of what you used to wear.

With a look at her, you nod slowly, yet again, and go to put it all on. When you come out again, hair still wet and dripping slightly, she guides you to a chair and sits you down in it. After a moment where you realize that you're still too tall for her to do anything useful, you slouch down.

She smiles at you in the mirror, then reaches for the brush and starts dragging it through the hair that's already drying from exposure to the air.

In wake of being clean, your curls are starting to crop back up.

She wanders off, returning with a towel and scrubbing your hair dry the rest of the way. "I think that, if it is him, you should probably look familiar," she explains, speaking for the first time since bringing you in here. "Since your hair is so much longer than it used to be, I think we're going to put it up tonight and then it'll be about the length it was."

You nod, watch your younger self reappear in the mirror under her hands. Despite the last few sweeps being hard to bear, you find yourself looking happier than you remember being.

"Those two think it's him." you start quietly, trying not to startle her. "What do you think?"

She sighs, pulling your hair up into a tail and securing it, fluffing the curls up with her fingers. "I think that we made a mistake in pulling you away from him when we did. We should have brought him with us." she digs the heel of her hand into her chin, then nods. "You did a good job getting your makeup off. We're going to have to do an older version of it."

You wait until she's sitting in the chair next to you, outlining careful circles around your eyes, claws digging into your chin when you won't hold still. "And," she continues, "I think that if those two think it's him, then it probably is."

The rest of the time putting makeup on your face is spent in silence.

When she pulls back and nods at you, a small smile twisting the edges of her lips, you sit back up. Glancing in the mirror, you're almost startled at how easily you've gone back to looking like yourself.

She laughs, the pulls you upright, to your feet. "You still have the thing he gave you, right?"

You nod, feeling your throat go tight.

Meenah sighs, and you understand. Going off to get it from where you have it hidden, you clip it to your belt. You still remember when he gave it to you, swift fingers clipping it onto the waist of your shorts and tucking your club into it. The words echo in your head as you run your hand over it, over the initials he had carved into the middle ball of the chain.

'So that you don't have to carry it all the time. I may not agree with it in practice or theory, but I know that you need to defend yourself.' he had grinned at you, almost blunt teeth showing between his lips, and you had dragged him closer to you, kissed his smile, taken his breath into your lungs and held him close.

With the final detail attached, you look to Meenah, gesturing down at yourself.

When she gives you a sly grin and waggles her eyebrows at you before raising both of her thumbs, you realize how much of everything you have broken.

The two of you walk together, back down to the ballroom, and that's where you spot Mituna. He's holding a dark brown cloak, nothing that would indicate blood status, and when you come even closer, he hands it to you.

"It's his," he explains, gesturing towards the balcony. "I told him I would get someone to retrieve it for him."

You know. You take it, and the moment the scent hits your nose, you know.

A soft keening sound leaves your throat, and the other three watch you carefully. Cronus looks between the cloak and your face, excitement whipping across his features. You nod before he can say anything, pushing past him and out into the night air.

Standing on the balcony, rubbing his hands over his own shoulders, is a troll you recognize as your matesprite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay!


	16. ==> BE THE SIGNLESS AGAIN

==> BE THE SIGNLESS AGAIN

 

You're leaning on the railing, shivering so hard that you think you can hear your teeth clacking together when something drops onto your shoulders.

The instant heat given from the fabric makes you purr softly, pulling the edges of it closer.

"A motherfucker has never looked so cold before." someone speaks quietly, and you nod, recognizing the fabric as your own covering. The troll next to you is much taller than you. If you were standing upright, your head would probably come to the middle of his chest.

"I get cold easily," you explain, still shivering slightly. "Thank you for my cloak."

There's a pause, and then he's leaning closer and the smell that hits your nose makes you want to curl up against him. The urge is so strong that you have to dig your claws into your side. "Why do you get cold?"

Ah. Of course he'd be able to tell that you're a mutant blood. You should be able to be much warmer than you currently are, but you suppose that a polite question should receive an answer. "I was injured, sweeps back now. I suppose it must have damaged my body's ability to heat itself."

You hear a sad honking noise, and that's when you realize who it is that you're talking to.

Your head shoots up as you take in the face of the Prince of Rage. Your eyes go wide as he simply smiles at you. Instead of doing the rational thing and bowing out of the conversation, you shrug and speak to him again. "Are you alright?"

He pauses, the muscles around his mouth twitching like he's biting the inside of his lip.

Against all reasoning, it gives you the vague realization that he's familiar looking. Beyond knowing the Princes and the Princess, you recognize something about him, something that tugs at your think pan.

He leans even closer, a hand circling around your cheek as he draws your gaze back to his face.

"I lost you once," he whispers, almost frowning as he searches your eyes for something. "I don't want to lose you again." he presses his forehead to yours. "Is it alright if I-" he cuts off, the words awkward in his mouth as he searches for them.

Unbidden, a response falls from your mouth. "Yes."

The simple word makes him smile, and he closes his eyes. You feel something prodding your mind, and then there's a sharp pain in the middle of your forehead. Despite the pain, you manage to stay upright, realizing that he's not the cause of it in the same moment. Around you, the rest of the world falls away, and you're eyes slip closed as you watch a memory that he's projecting into your head.

It's someone that looks like you, dressed in the clothing of one of the Seers of the land.

No, you realize as you watch the memory further. It's not someone that looks like you. It is you. You know for a fact that your mutation is one of the rarest, that the blood color you were born with is singular and belonging only to one or two in every generation.

The you that you're seeing is holding hands with him in the memory, speaking about something that you can't quite hear.

It trips something in your mind, a word that sounds like a name.

"...Kurloz?" you whisper it.

The memory fades, and he draws back, the hope in his eyes almost desperate. When you reach up to trace your fingers over his face, you feel a smile stretching your lips as more memories dredge themselves up from the depths of your mind. As if the memory he shared with you was the trigger.

"Kurloz!" you whisper, a warmth in your chest that you haven't felt in as long as your memory extends back to.

You are Kankri Vantas, and you are the Seer of Blood. The troll in front of you is your matesprite, the Prince of Rage. To the people in the room behind you, he is The Grand Highblood. To you, in the memories you are now recovering, he is Kurloz Makara, and you have been looking for him every day since you woke up.

The look on his face when you launch yourself into his arms is beautiful.


	17. ==> BE THE BARD OF HOPE

==> BE THE BARD OF HOPE

 

You are now Cronus Ampora.

From your vantage point, you see the troll who looks suspiciously like Kankri fling himself into the arms of the troll you have known for years. Several feet from you is a troll with a hand over her own mouth, eyes wide as she watches it occur. When possibly-Kankri starts pressing desperate kisses to Kurloz's face and the troll looks almost scandalized enough to drop unconscious, you intervene.

"Excuse me?" you mutter to her, a hand on her shoulder. When she looks at you, jade green eyes wide in recognition, you gesture at the balcony. The two of you are the only ones watching, besides Meenah and Mituna, and you know for a fact that you need to get her to some out of the way place to ask her what is going on from her perspective. "Would you mind coming with me?"

She follows quietly, eyes still wide as she goes.

When you manage to get her into the hallway, you turn back to her and sigh. "Why were you reacting with shock?"

"I-" she tears her eyes away from the path the two of you just cut through the room. "My child just launched himself face first at the Prince, would you be calm and rational about that?"

"...Your child?" you ask, an eyebrow raised.

She nods. "There was a clash of classes, nearly four sweeps back now. He was, according to those who brought him back, unfairly caught up in it. When he woke up, he was weak enough that there were those who encouraged a culling, and I could not stand by and let that happen. He had a life to return to, even if he did not remember it."

"He just did," you reply, shrugging almost helplessly. "That's his matesprite, I believe."

"...What." she looks at you, her face shocked.

"The life he was pulled away from, by whoever it was that dragged him back to your settlement?" you gesture back towards the balcony. "It was here, with us."

She thinks about that for a moment, eyes wide as she realizes what it means then looks back at the crowd. "Am I to be punished for this?" she whispers, hands twisting together. "I did not know, all I knew was that he-"

"You saved his life." Mituna pops up out of the room, by her side. With a sharp look at you, he frowns. "Whoever dragged him off did no one any favors, but you kept him alive when he might have died. I was speaking with him earlier, and he admitted that to me. You may not have done the best thing, but you did the right thing, given the circumstances."

Trailing behind him is another troll female, this one leaning against the wall and waiting. "Soooooooo boring!" she hisses, one of her eyes focusing on you, the seven pupils in it creeping you out just a little.

"Aranea," the jade blooded troll begins, an exasperated but fond look on her face. "Come here."

The blue-blooded troll does, almost bouncing on her toes to come to a stop at the other's side. "We aren't getting a chance to speak with the Empress, are we? That's soooooooo unfair." she rolls her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

The moment you set eyes on her, you know that you don't want anything to do with her. Taking a polite step back, you shake your head. "The Condesce will meet with you," you start, gesturing to Mituna to come closer, wrapping his fingers in yours when he does. The small amount of fear you had been feeling vanished at his touch and you look back at the possibly eight-eyed troll. "But I fear that there is another matter to discuss before communication can be opened between the forest settlement and us."

"Like what????????" she asks, and you find yourself becoming irritated at the amount of drama she manages to fit into the words.

"Like the fact that your settlement had the Prince of Rage's matesprite in your company for the last three sweeps." you shoot off in reply, watching as the smug look on her face falls flat, slight terror entering her eyes. With a smirk, you nod. "Nearly four."

She swallows heavily, and the look on her face drops straight into fear.

The clatter of little feet alerts you to the presence of several wigglers, and you turn to greet them, smiling as you realize exactly which ones they are.

At the head of the pack is Gamzee, a slightly confusing wiggler in terms of his relation to Kurloz. Behind him is Eridan and Sollux, the two that had come out of you and Mituna's pailings. Bringing up the rear is a smaller wiggler, a disgruntled expression on his face as he digs his claws into the hem of his overlarge black sweater with a gray cancer symbol on it. You kneel down and drag both Sollux and Eridan into your arms, nuzzling your nose into the hair by their horns.

Mituna follows your example, dropping to his knees to drag your smallest wiggler into his arms. Sollux squirms against the affection from both of you for a moment then settles in the combined arms and purrs softly. Eridan simply wraps his hand around his brother's, burying his face in your shoulder.

The smallest wiggler stops, looking up at the jade blood and Aranea. "Hi," he whispers at them, eyes wide.

The jade blood looks down at him, eyes just as wide as his, then kneels. "Hello," she spoke softly like she was afraid of scaring him. "What's your name?"

"Karkat," he whispers, looking with no small amount of fear up at Aranea. When Gamzee sees it, he rushes over, wrapping his arms around the smaller wiggler.

"No, brother, ain't nothin' to fear." he whispers, trying to reassure.

Karkat nods, taking his hand in his own. "What's your name?" he asks, small ears wiggling as he waits for a response. His horns, much like Kankri's, are barely there nubs.

"My name is Porrim Maryam." she introduces herself, a hand to her chest as she smiles at him. "Is this your friend?"

"His name is Gamzee." Karkat offers instead.

Gamzee honks happily, having learned the noise from his big brother, then smiles at the older trolls.

That's where Kurloz and Kankri find the group of you when they come back inside, Kurloz carrying Kankri in his arms. The smaller troll is wrapped around Kurloz's neck, his forehead pressed to the base of one of the larger's horns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, tiny Karkat and tiny Gamzee!


	18. ==> BE KANRKI VANTAS

==> BE KANRKI VANTAS

 

You are Kankri Vantas, and you finally have your matesprite back.

On the floor in front of you is a gathering of trolls. Mituna and Cronus are clustered around two small trolls. Closer to you is Porrim and Aranea, and in front of them is two other small trolls. One has the same already spiraling horns that your matesprite has.

The other doesn't, at first, appear to have horns.

When he looks up at the approach of Kurloz, he squeaks and hides behind Kurloz's look-a-like. Kurloz stops, looking at the small trolls, then steps in between them and the trolls he doesn't know. Porrim flashes you a look that says she understands, and that she also knows why you're being held by the Prince.

Aranea just looks like she's going to be sick.

Kurloz grunts at the two of them, sending them scurrying a little further away. When they've backed up, he kneels down, letting you stand on your own, then gestures for you to join him on the floor.

"This is Gamzee," he introduces, and you have a brief flash of memory that includes the wiggler as a grub and some very sharp teeth. If you think about it a little further, you realize that those sharp teeth match up to a scar on your ankle.

"I remember that part." you smile, holding a hand out to Gamzee. The small troll takes it carefully, still holding onto the wiggler that's hiding behind him. Kurloz reaches for that one, petting gently at their hair. After a few seconds, they come out of hiding, stumbling as they make their way to Kurloz's knee and hold onto him as tightly as their little claws can manage.

"This is Karkat," Kurloz tells you, and the look on his face begs for you to understand.

It feels like someone punched you in the chest as you realize what it means. The smallest wiggler of the bunch, with barely there horns peeking out from a mess of black hair that curls just the slightest bit around his ears and cheeks. The gray symbol on his sweater marks him anonymous, but you're willing to bet almost anything that his blood color matches yours.

"Hello Karkat," you whisper, holding your hands out to him. "I think I remember you a little bit." the brief flash of memory, of an egg cradled close to your chest before being placed in the hatching caverns, makes itself known, and you pet his hair back until you can see his horns completely. "Can I hold you?"

Karkat, small hands still grasping Kurloz's knee, looks up at him and waits.

When the bigger troll nods and pushes him to you, Karkat unfolds and reaches up to you. Even if you hadn't remembered him, you would have pulled him to your chest anyways, would have pressed him close enough to hear his blood pusher beat. He's almost devastatingly small in your arms, and he squirms until his cheek is against your chest and he digs his claws into your shirt.

Quietly, Kurloz drags you both to his chest, reaching for Gamzee as well. He brings the now whole group of his family to his lap, and you can feel tears starting to stream down your face as you realize what it means.

"Signless?" Porrim addresses you, and you look up, fingers still combing through Karkat's hair, trying to impart safety and reassurances that you didn't know you could make.

"This is Karkat," you say helplessly, a teary smile on your face. "He's ours. My name is Kankri, and this is my family." you gesture at Gamzee, then at Kurloz. "This is what I was missing when I woke up in your company."

Porrim smiles, and you can see the tears building up in her eyes. Strangely, you know that they're happy tears, not something coming from sorrow. "I am glad that you found your family." she sighs, reaching for Aranea's hand. "Are you going to be alright now?" she motions back into the ballroom. "There is someone I need to speak with. May I have an audience with you later?"

"I'll be alright," you assure her, and then nod. "Anytime. I just need time with them right now."

As if echoing your statement, Karkat presses his tiny nose into your chin and you feel your blood pusher melt. Gamzee reaches up and tugs gently at his sweater, honks quietly. There's makeup on his face as well, and you almost laugh as you realize that it's in the pattern of a clown. Karkat reaches back down to his friend, clasps their hands together tightly, and Gamzee settles down, pressing his face into the side of Kurloz's thigh. His breathing evens out in a few minutes, and then he's asleep. Mituna turns to look at you, still holding the little wiggler he'd been clutching when you arrived.

"This is what was missing?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah," you sigh, a smile on your face as you reach a hand into Kurloz's hair and bury your fingers in it. A weary little sigh against your collar, and then a steady stream of breathing tells you that Karkat has fallen asleep as well. If the look on Kurloz's face is to be believed, the entire group of you might just drop off here in the hallway. "This is what has been missing for sweeps."

Cronus looks at the group of you and laughs. "So...This is Eridan," he motions at the one he's holding, smiles at the little one's scowl. "And that is Sollux." he motions to the other. Eridan is wrapped in the purple of Cronus's blood, and Sollux's clothes almost perfectly match Mituna's. Sollux makes a face, then looks over at Gamzee and Karkat before sighing.

"Ith it bedtime?" you hear him lisp, and you smile at the thought that the two trolls in front of you have children.

"Yes," Mituna sighs, brushing his hair back out of his face. "it is time for bed. Come on, sopor time!" he stands in a single, fluid movement, lifting Sollux into the air as he goes. Cronus stands as well, slower than his matesprite, and waits for Eridan to follow. The wiggler groans something out, wavering on his feet.

Apparently, you think, he's better at hiding his tiredness.

Cronus catches him before he falls, tucking the deep violet cloak around him like a blanket. "Alright shrimp," he whispers, kissing Eridan's forehead softly. "Time for bed." Before he's even turned around, Eridan is asleep in his arms, one hand clutching his father's arm in a tight little grip.

Kurloz grumbles something, then clutches the three of you tightly and stands, carting you off to his rooms.

 

When you get to Kurloz's chambers, you find that they don't look all that much different from what you now remember.

He sets you down first, leading you into a room with two small recuperacoons, both of which are a deep purple. When he gets to the bigger one, he veers off, heading instead for the table off to the side. He sets Gamzee down there, pulling the wigglers pants and shirt off, leaving him in just his undergarments, then cradles him back in his arms and goes back to the first of the two.

You smile as Kurloz settles Gamzee in carefully, tucking the wiggler's hair out of his face. He catches sight of you watching, his lips twitching into a small smile. "He can wash the makeup off tomorrow," he whispers, holding out his hands for Karkat.

"Yours always ended up in your hair while you slept," you whisper, already shuffling the small troll's sweater off, then handing him over. Removing his sweater makes Karkat seem even smaller, if such a thing is possible, in Kurloz's arms. The dark gray symbol on the item of clothing makes you frown for a moment. "Why-"

"Because I-" Kurloz cuts himself off, then settles Karkat to sleep in silence.

When he finishes, he drags you to his room. In there, there's still the enlarged sleep pod that he'd had installed for the both of you. You stand where he left you as he takes the sweater from your hands. "I wasn't around to protect him," he whispers to you.

You tilt your head to the side, waiting for him to explain that thought. You know that if you wait long enough, he'll tell you.

"He looked too much like you." Kurloz eventually says, petting gentle claws over the sweater. "I couldn't stand it." he makes a pained noise in the back of his throat, and you immediately reach for him, digging your fingers into his shoulders. "Even now, it still feels like I'm dreaming, and that I'm going to wake up and there's going to be two little wigglers and me and no one else. You're going to be gone, and it's going to be the ghost of you in the other room, with wide eyes that look almost exactly like yours and then there's the fact that when he does talk, he sounds like you."

You reach up and shoosh him, papping gently at his lips.

For a moment, he looks startled, and then he laughs. Instead of the weak attempt at seeming happy that you had seen earlier, this is a true laugh, the smile it comes out of brighter than the sun that Porrim loves. He wraps both of his arms around you, clutching you tightly to his chest.

"You weren't around to protect him?" you remind Kurloz, nuzzling at his neck.

"I retreated." he whimpers as if he fears you yelling at him. "I couldn't stand to be around him for too long, so I just-" he growls, dropping to his knees and pressing his ear to your chest. "If he'd gone out, wearing the color of his blood, I wasn't there to keep anyone who might have a reason to hurt him away. Meenah's still working on the caste thing, but it's not quite there yet." he whimpers again, then sighs as you start scratching the parts of his scalp that lead directly into his horns. "So he wore gray, and Gamzee kept his mouth shut, and then the time passed and now you're here."

He paused, took a deep breath, then buried his nose in your stomach. "Don't leave me again?"

The fact that he made it into a question when he could have demanded, could have ordered, could have forced you to stay makes your blood pusher beat faster. "I had no intention of it," you whisper, dragging your fingers through his hair, pulling out the tie that is keeping it up. It falls around his shoulders in a dark wave, and his fingers scrabble up your sides to your hips.

A warmth on your hip makes you breathe deeply, eyes falling closed. The almost needle-like pressure of his teeth through your clothing makes you groan, and then he pulls back.

"I-"

"Kurloz!" Meenah shouts, panic in her voice. "Kurloz, if you have Kankri with you, you need to both be out here, right now!"

Kurloz glares at the door, muttering darkly, even as he stands. He takes your hand, walks to the door to answer it. On the other side, Meenah has a hand raised, as if she were about to start pounding on it to rouse you two.

"What is happening?" you ask, trying to ignore the fact that your buldge is currently trying to unsheathe.

"Whale," she grins at the both of you, teeth exposed. "Your troll lady, the one who brought you here? I think she's going to krill someone in the middle of the ballroom." she gestures for you to follow. "Won't tell me anything, clammed up about everything except hissing at him."

"Oh. Oh dear." you drag Kurloz along behind you, picking up speed as you realize that the hissing can only mean one thing.

When the three of you reach the ballroom, you don't even have to search for Porrim. There's a crowd gathered around a large empty space on the floor. Inside the space are Porrim, Aranea, and someone you recognize as a scout that had come with the group of dignitaries and diplomats that attended the ball.

Porrim is struggling against Aranea's hold when you approach, hissing furiously at Noir, who's lying on the floor. Despite the bright lighting of the room, she's glowing, and her fangs are out, sharper than they had been earlier.

Noir, rubbing at his face to try and wipe the blood away, is glaring back at her. You decide to step in, heading for Porrim first, to try and calm your adoptive mother down before she actually does kill someone.

"Porrim?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just posting all of this at once.


	19. ==> BE THE DOLOROSA

==> BE THE DOLOROSA

 

You are Porrim Maryam.

Your matesprite is Aranea Serket, your have two wigglers who are currently in the nursery of the ballroom, and right now you want to rip Jack Noir's head off his scrawny little neck.

Right now.

Right the hell now.

What you can't understand is why your matesprite isn't letting you, why you aren't able to kill the little shit who committed one of the worst acts of treason you have ever heard of. Aranea must not know what he did, maybe that's why she's making you let him live.

The pure blinding rage in your head right now might have something to do with it.

Someone approaches you, and for a moment, you turn on them to hiss even more. When you realize that it's your adopted child, you calm down slightly.

"Porrim?" he asks you, quietly, as if he's not sure.

You nod, and then you stand up straight, Aranea's hands transferring to your waist. "Your name is Kankri." you remember that, you remember seeing him with a wiggler that looked almost exactly like him. The wiggler's name is Karkat, and it makes you smile. "How does it feel to have your memory back?"

"I'm not sure I have all of it just yet," he starts, but then he nods. "But it's good."

He gestures at Noir, and you almost feel like darting across the twenty feet between the two of you and ripping his heart from his chest. "Why are you attacking Noir?"

You raise your chin, make your voice louder so that everyone surrounding you can hear. "Because he's the reason you lost your memory in the first place. He planned the uprising, attacked you, tried to kill you. When that failed, he brought you back with him so that he could try again later. When you woke up without your memory, he left you alive so that he could figure out how much you had lost." you feel the rage in your head growing wild again, and you bare your fangs at Jack.

Faster than you can track, however, The Prince of Rage lunges at the man, drags him off the ground by his collar. When he gets the man in front of his face, his feet dangling pathetically in mid air, he lets out a noise that can only be described as the unholy spawn of a bicycle horn and a roar.

The noise echoes off the walls of the ballroom, makes people cover their ears, makes your head hurt even more than it already does. When the sound of it finally dies down, you swear you can still hear it ringing in your ears. Aranea has hers covered still, eyes wider than they had been when she found out that Kankri was the Prince's matesprite. The blue on her lips makes her look even more startled, and you find yourself reaching out to bring her closer.

Next to you, there's a young female troll, her dress the color of the Empress's blood. "Highblood," she starts, crossing her arms over her chest. "What do you want done with him?"

The Prince reaches for Kankri's hand, waits until he has the smaller troll within reach, then drops Noir to the floor again. "My matesprite," he pauses, waits for the gasps and the shock to die down. You do not share the same shock, and now that Aranea has thought about it, she doesn't either. "Would like for me to spare him, undoubtedly."

Kankri looks up at his matesprite, clutches his hand tightly.

"And seeing as how he's the one that got all damaged like by him," the Prince continues, glaring down at Noir like he's daring him to move. "I think he gets to decide."

You watch as Kankri smiles, then presses a kiss to the Prince's wrist. "He shall become an exile, if it's left up to me." he states, clear enough for everyone to hear. "If he returns, then you may do as you please with him." he reassures his mate. "But for now, he leaves and never sets foot in the kingdoms again."

"Any of them?" someone calls out from the back, and you hiss in their direction briefly.

At the flash of fangs from you, someone else calls out, "What about her?"

The Prince turns his glare on them. "What about her? As far as I can see, she was doing what she has spent the last three sweeps, almost four, doing. She was defending him, to the best of her ability."

You feel your face grow flushed at that, and Aranea's grin is more than enough ballast for you to speak up. "I was only doing what should have been done the moment that your matesprite was brought into my life. I cornered Jack and questioned him, and when he admitted to what he had done, I responded with action."

The Prince and Kankri turn their backs on Jack, leaving him on the floor as a couple of guards move in and drag him off. You watch it happen, anger dying down as your adoptive child approaches, hand in hand with the one who had probably thought him lost forever.

Kankri whispers something to his matesprite, who nods and lets go of his hand. With permission given, he launches himself into your arms, hugging you tightly. Slightly shocked, you run your fingers through his hair, pulling back so that you can see his face. "Meenah told us that you were going to kill somebody." he explains. "I decided that it would be best if you didn't spill blood while wearing diplomat's clothes."

"Thank you." you tell him quietly.

The troll with the Empress's color dress comes up to the four of you, grinning. "Come on you guys," she whispered. "I want to talk to the entire group of you."

She wanders off and you look at Kankri. "Was that the Empress?" you ask him, eyes wide.

"Not quite yet," the Prince answers for him, scooping him up off the floor and following. You take Aranea's hand, swallow your fear, and follow as well. When you get out into the hallway again, there's a clatter of movement in the room behind you as the party swings back into action.

The Empress to be turns to you, her smile softer this time. "You must be the lady who kept Kankri alive after all of what happened."

Instead of it being a question, it's phrased like a fact, and you find yourself nodding. "Yes." you speak up. It startles you when she laughs, leaning forward to pull you into a hug, her horns just long enough that you two risk tangling together. "I-" you find yourself wondering where to put your hands that won't be construed as rude and lead to a beheading.

She draws back, sticking out her hand instead. "Meenah, by the way. Don't call me Condesce."

You take it, finding yourself almost faint with surprise. "Porrim Maryam." You manage to get out your name with alacrity, despite the fact that you feel as if you could drop unconscious at any moment. "My matesprite, Aranea Serket." you gesture at her, and feel a bit more grounded in reality when you find her hand on your lower back.

"You two have any wigglers in the nursery?" Meenah asks, an eyebrow raised as she gestures towards the backroom. "I want to talk to you in private, but it's probably better to bring the spawn with you if you can, so that there's no panic later."

As if on cue, you hear a shrill cry of, "Mama!!!!!!!!" and you nearly bolt for the nursery door.

Meenah catches your eye, then nods. "Go get them." she allows, following closely behind when you go. Behind her, Kankri and Kurloz are following just as quickly. Your speed picks up when you hear crying and oh gog, your children are crying and you aren't in the room with them.

It feels like an eternity before you get to them, throwing the door open.

The room looks entirely deserted when you get there, save for the prescence of someone with a knife to little Kanaya's throat and if they do not let go of your daughter right now they're going to find out what it feels like to have a rainbow drinker rip their heart out with her teeth.

Vriska's on the floor, backed into a corner and crying as loud as her little lungs can go.

In another corner, eyes big and skin pale, there's four little human wigglers. The only reason you notice them is that it looks like Kanaya managed to hide them before staining the wall with some of her blood and that means that the attacker made her bleed and there is no way that he's going to leave this room alive.

You feel the knife in your hand before you're really aware of it, and then you lunge for him, jamming it into his back and killing him instantly. Kanaya drops into your waiting hand, already clutching tightly at your arm as you bring her to your chest.

You leave the knife in the man. It won't do to have what looks like the children of the neighboring kingdoms scarred for life by the sight of his own blood pusher pumping his blood out of his body from a hole in his back. You've killed someone like that before, and it is never a good thing to watch. Vaguely you recognize him, and it hits you that he looks similar to Jack Noir, and it is a very good thing that the man is not currently in the room with you.

Kanaya hiccups, her small claws digging into your shoulders as you head for Aranea and hug your two daughters in between your bodies. Aranea kisses Kanaya's head, stroking gently at her hair, then petting Vriska's and shooshing them both.

"Whale," says Meenah after a minute of dead silence. "Let's gather up the rest of the kids and get them out of here."

The Prince steps further into the room, sets Kankri on the ground before helping the Empress to be with the task of corraling fearful wigglers. When he gets to the human ones, there's a moment of confused almost panic on both ends, with the little boy looking up at him through thick glasses. He looks down at him, then at the other three that he can see, kneeling down and gathering them into his arms as carefully as he can.

The boy with the glasses squeals in delight as he's lifted off the ground. The girl with glasses squirms around until she can reach him before shushing him.

The Prince takes this almost in stride, and you have to admit to quietly laughing when he gives you a half hearted glare. Kankri smiles at you, just as amused as you are. The sight of his matesprite with armfuls of human wigglers makes him laugh as well, and that's the sound that was always rare when you woke him up.

You wait for a moment, clutching tightly at your two wigglers and thanking every possible source that they're alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Porrim, glad to see you being a vampire.


	20. ==> BE MINDFANG

==> BE MINDFANG

 

You are Mindfang.

Fuck yes.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and your two little wigglers are currently being smooshed in between you and your matesprite. Kanaya's hand is going to need a bandage and you kind of wish that Porrim hadn't already killed the man who caused it because your two little ones are crying their eyes out with a ferocity that you hadn't known since they were grubs.

You wipe carefully at Vriska's eyes and smile at her, trying to reassure her. When she notices, she gives you a watery-eyed smile back, still hiccuping through the tears running down her face. You decide that fussing over her little red boots might be the better option right now, and that leads to her giggling. It requires you setting her on the ground and letting her stand on her own, but you feel able to let go long enough for that to happen. Kanaya, pressed against Porrim's chest, is still sort of snuffling now and then, but she's also paying attention to what's happening to her sister. It's good, you think as you keep an eye on her and make sure that Vriska's boots are still tied neatly, the way that Porrim had done them up before the ball.

It means that she's not going to lose herself to this.

"Hey, little rainbow sucker." you reach up and cuff a tear off of her face. "You're glowing, little bug."

She nods, eyes still wide and focused entirely on you. When she looks down at her hands, she waves them at Porrim, who laughs and kisses her palms. After a moment, she licks the wound clean, pressing gentle kisses to the edges of it.

Kanaya will be alright.

You look back down at Vriska, whose hand has slipped into your coat pocket. Her face is screwed up as she tries to think carefully about what she wants to say. After a minute, it relaxes, and she looks up at Kanaya. "I could tooooooootally have taken him on!!!!!!!!" she scolds, and then Kanaya starts laughing.

With a sigh, you pick Vriska up, settling her on your hip so that she and her sister can be face to face. "C'mon Spiderbite." you chuckle, pressing little kisses to her cheek. "Let's go talk to the Empress."

Kanaya's eyes grow wide, and she looks to Porrim for confirmation. When her mother smiles gently at her and nods, the wiggler's eyes grow impossibly wider and she starts brushing her hands down her dress, trying to smooth it out and make herself presentable again. "Vriska." she addresses the younger troll, then leans between you and Porrim to start fussing with her hair.

"Noooooooo........" Vriska whines slowly, leaning back from her sister's meddling. "Fussyfangs, I look fine!!!!!!!!"

You laugh, swooping in between them and pressing kisses to both their cheeks. When you stand up straight again, Porrim is looking at you like you represent her entire world. Truthfully, that's a look you will never get tired of.

Eventually, the four of you reach Meenah again, the Empress to be leaning against the wall as she speaks with some of the few humans in attendance.

The Prince of Rage has his arms around their children still, like he doesn't trust that he can let them go just yet. The parents of the human wigglers are looking torn between nervousness and amusement as they watch what is easily the biggest troll you have ever seen hold their spawn. The boy with glasses is squirming again, and you can tell it will only be a few moments before he finds a way to get out of The Grand Highblood's arms.

His sister gasps as he proceeds to do just that, clambering onto his father's leg and holding tightly.

The King of Prospit looks down at him, then smiles and switches his empty pipe to the other side of his mouth as he leans down to pick his son up and hold him tight. Seeing this, the Highblood reaches up to pluck the matching female wiggler off his shoulder as well, setting her on the ground and trying not to visibly worry when she's grabbed by her father.

Kankri places a calming hand on his arm, the one still holding the other two, and smiles at the humans.

"It's not like we're trying to keep your little shrimps," Meenah is explaining, hands held up in placation as you watch. "It's that there was an attack and we didn't want to release them to the wrong parents."

The other two wigglers seem content to be held, the female one looking down at her mother and smiling at her. Her brother seems to have either tuned the world out or gone to sleep, you aren't sure which. As you watch, his head lolls, and you have your answer. The Queen of Derse looks amused, and she approaches The Grand Highblood.

"May I have my children back now?" she speaks calmly, reaching up for them.

The Prince watches her with a careful eye, then nods slowly. He hands down the girl first, making sure she gets her footing on the carpet, then kneels to hand over the boy. With barely any noise, he transfers into his mother's arms, rolling up and tucking his face into her neck as he falls into a deeper sleep.

Next to you, you can feel Kanaya squirming with the want to be put down.

Porrim obliges, and you both watch as she approaches quietly, her eyes wide at the sight of her first human. You watch the blond female wiggler notice her, her small lips pulled into a smile.

"Hello," she says, holding out a hand. "I am Rose LaLonde."

You watch as Kanaya, sweet little Kanaya, takes a moment to try and adjust away from her native tongue of clicks and chirps, then answers the hand with her own, shaking it the way she has seen her parents do. "I am Kanaya Maryam." she nods, clearly pleased at her own voice not stuttering. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise." Rose beams at her, then reaches a small hand into the air and clasps her fingers around the end of her long braid.

With a grin, you notice that the other hand is still tucked into Kanaya's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Humans! Just wait until Karkat and John grow up a bit more, we get a Swan Princess moment.


	21. ==> BE MEENAH AGAIN

==> BE MEENAH AGAIN

 

Good idea.

You look at the king and queen of the neighboring kingdoms, trying your best to make sure that they don't yell at anyone for what happened. Their kids aren't hurt, everyone survived except for the attacker, and as far as you can tell, one of the troll children might have been the reason for the survival.

The Queen of Derse leans in close to you, holding the boy wiggler in her arms. "Would it be too much of an impossibility to stay here for the night?" she asks in a soft voice, quartz chip eyes shining in the soft light. "I fear that my two may not be able to make the trip home at this time. Dave is already asleep, and Rose..." she looks over at her daughter, the one still clutching tightly to the hand of the Maryam and Serket wiggler.

You nod, then smile.

"It's cool," you tell her, then realize you should probably be a bit more formal. "I mean- I-" you break off, trying to regain your composure.

She laughs, and then you relax. "If I could be shown to a room, then I can set Dave down."

You latch onto that idea, and you nod before you can make an idiot of yourself. With a look at the King of Prospit, you tilt your head. "Do you want to stay the night too?" you ask him, as calmly as you can. "I can find beds for the wigglers, and they'll be near you."

He nods, then checks on his male wiggler. "He's down for the count." you hear him mutter, then watch as he strokes a hand down his cheek.

"How old are they?" you look at the two humans, watch as the matching female wiggler clutches at her father's leg. "If you don't mind me asking." you feel your skin go warm in embarrassment as you think about the fact that the question might be insulting. You know that some humans are sensitive about their age, usually when they're closer to the end of their lifespan.

Instead, both of the adult humans look down at the wigglers that they're holding and smile at you reassuringly.

"Rose and Dave are seven and a half." The Queen informs you, readjusting her son on her hip. Your blank look must have clued her in that meant nothing to you and she smiles again. "It means about three and a half sweeps, with a little bit more added in on top."

The King pats his own children on the head. "They're six. It's about three sweeps." His girl yawns, almost sitting on his leg as he walks now. He pauses for a moment and you pause too, waiting for him. He readjusts his son and bends to pick her up. The trouble is, every time he tries, his son starts slipping out of his arms.

"Here," you whisper, crossing over to him and kneeling to pick up his daughter. "I can carry her if you're alright with it."

He nods a smile on his face, and offers his leg forward so that you can pick her up. You do so, and at once it's a little bit amazing and terrifying. The girl is a weight in your arms, but not an unpleasant one, and her breathing goes deep and even as you hold her.

"Not much experience with children?" The Queen asks you, and you remember to breathe when her hand in on your back.

"Not much, no." you look at the little girl's face, the thick glasses in front of her eyes. "She's lovely." you managed to whisper, feeling tears prick at the back of your own eyes. It takes you a minute, but you nod and continue walking. "Sorry, need to get them to bed."

As you walk, you can't help but take note of how it feels to hold her, the weight of her on your hip and the comfortable nuzzle of her nose in your shoulder.

When you get to where the King's children are going to be sleeping for the night, you kneel down again to set her on the bed. When she's laying on the pillow, you hesitate for a moment before you pull off her glasses, folding them up and setting them on the side table. The King, on the other side of the room and dealing with his son, is humming something that sounds strangely familiar to you. In the meantime, you decide to pull off the cute little shoes that she's wearing, unlacing them and putting them next to the bed.

You just about jump out of your skin when his hand lands on your shoulder.

"You did that well," he compliments, leaning around you to pull the blanket out from under her and up to her chin. "Are you sure that you haven't got any running around?"

For a moment, you think of bright eyes and a grin that matched your own, curly dark hair that floated around a small gray face. Barely pupated, and then snatched away. "I'm sure." you choke out quietly, hating the way that the words burn your protein chute. Something in your voice must have given you away, however, because he pulls you into a careful hug. When he pulls back, he leaves his arm on your shoulder and guides you out to where the Queen is waiting.

She catches sight of your face and looks worried for a moment, then smiles kindly at you.

"Here," you manage the word when you can speak again. "Just next door is where I was planning on having you put your shrimp." you lead her into the room, gesturing at one bed, then the other. "It's got the same things the other one does, it was meant as a guest room until my-" you cut off, and you can just feel the damn outburst coming. "It was realized that the visiting nobles might need a place to put their wigglers."

She tucks her son in, pulls the dark glasses off his face and puts them to the side in the same way you saw the King do. The shoes followed, along with the small cloak that he was wearing.

"Across the hallway are the rooms I was going to put you two in." you mutter, gesturing helplessly. When you close your eyes, putting the heels of your palms to them, you start heading for the door. Before you get there, her arms are wrapped around you, and you can feel the tears streaming down your cheeks in large drips and flows. When she pulls your head to her chest and whispers soothingly, you can't help it. Your hands are clutching carefully at her back, and you're leaning into her.

After a time, she pulls back again, wiping the tears off your face. "Is that better?" she asks quietly.

You nod, going after the tears as well, trying to wipe them off your face and look less rumpled. When she smiles at you, you can still see the echo of your mother, but it's less likely to make you break. "Thank you." you mutter, nod again as she kisses your forehead and wanders out into the hall.

You glance at her son, smile when you see him curled around his pillow like a little barnacle. You leave the room, close the door behind you, and sigh.

The two other monarchs are behind closed doors already, and when you turn to the side, there's a dangerously tired little girl standing there. "I require a bed," she tells you calmly, eyes solemn and serious. "And I was told that my mother and brother were up this way." When you gesture to the room you had her brother settled in, she nods and tries to walk into it, only to nearly smash her face into the door.

After you see that, you open the door for her, guiding her to the bed in the darkness of the room.

She gets up onto it well enough, then unties her shoes and settles them herself, curling up under the blanket with less than a sigh of breath. "Goodnight," she calls to you quietly, already falling asleep by the time you turn to reply.

With that done, you retire to your own rooms, get undressed for the night, and slip into your recuperacoon.

You dream about your little sister smiling for the first time in sweeps.


	22. ==> BE PAST HORUSS

==> BE PAST HORUSS

 

You are now Horuss, and there is no time left for you to try to make sense of that command.

You hold the youngest princess in your arms, your brother clutching her closer as he tries to reassure her that her family will be alright. You aren't going to tell him that you can smell the Queen's blood. You aren't going to tell him that she's already dead as he tries to keep her daughter from crying too loud.

The mob had found you in the middle, had split into both sides, and you curse your father quietly for passing his title on to you. You are not worth the skin you have, you are not anything good for the world. You let the Queen and her matesprite die, you did it wrong and now there's a gap in the world.

Your mother had died before Equius had even pupated, and you had grown up around the Queen, her being the friend your father had had since he was a wiggler. In a way, she had replaced her.

Your stream of thoughts is getting desperately empty, and you can feel the Void closing in around you.

When the walls around you fall open and a young troll with red in his hair reaches for you, a finger on his other hand to his lips, you draw back, curl your arms tighter around the two little trolls in them, and wish uselessly that you had a weapon. The other troll shakes his head, waving you in closer as he keeps his finger to his lips. "My name's Rufioh." he grins, "My dad sent me down here to make sure that you're all alright. He's part of the group that built these tunnels, on commission from the Queen."

You can feel yourself shaking, your arms sore from how close you're holding the two wigglers in your care. "The Queen and her matesprite were separated from us." you phrase carefully, hoping that Rufioh can see it in your eyes what happened, hoping that he knows not to say out loud.

Rufioh takes a sudden breath, eyes going slightly wide. Message received, then. He reaches for Equius, and you slide your brother into his arms. Despite the fact that he could be lying, something about him tells you that he is not. Equius settles against his chest, still holding Feferi's bag, and looks at you for confirmation that it's okay.

You manage to smile at him, curling Feferi even closer as she whines.

The noise cuts into your thoughts like a knife, a scared little trill of noise and something that sounds like she's trying to bubble water through her lips as she makes it. You nod again, stepping out of the hole that Rufioh created. In the darkness of the tunnel, you hadn't seen them, but now you notice a pair of iridescent wings on his back, fluttering gently as he waits for you.

"C'mon!" he urges, grabbing for your elbow and starting to jog off.

At a loss for what else to do, you follow.

 

==> BE CURRENT HORUSS

 

The Empress sits on her mother's throne, hands curled over the edges of it as she watches you.

"Why have you come here today?" she asks, voice strong in the echoing vastness of the room. Rufioh stands beside you, hands held behind his back as he waits, feet spread so that he is balanced in case of attack.

You bow your head, then drop to one of your knees. "Empress," you begin. "When I last was here, the title given to one in your position was Queen. I had not heard of a resolution of conflict, not until half of a sweep ago." you can feel her gaze on the back of your neck. "I am the son of Caelus, the Darkleer who served your mother."

She makes a small sound, as if she couldn't help it, and you curl your head down even further. When she does not speak to you, you continue. "I fear that, at the time, I was charged with protecting something very precious. In light of what had to happen first, I stayed away. For the safety of such a precious thing, I stayed away."

"Very well." she finally speaks after the silence stretches out between you. "What reason have you for staying away for nearly four sweeps?"

She directs you to stand, and you take to you feet again. The door behind you opens, and you can feel a small hand fall to your wrist, behind your back. "I was training her, simply to make sure that she would not meet an end at far too early of an age."

The silence in the room is devastating, and you urge her out from behind your back. "My Empress Condesce," you speak softly. "I bring you Feferi Peixes."

The Empress sits up completely straight on her throne, eyes wide enough to make you worry for a second that they'll fall from her face. "Fef?" she whispers, mouth dropping open. 

At the sides of her throne, The Princes and their Consorts look astounded.

When Feferi giggles, the Empress leaps from her throne, tossing herself to the floor to wrap her arms around her sister for the first time in sweeps. "Hi Meenah!" Feferi bubbles the words out, tangles her fingers in her sister's hair. The Empress looks at you, then takes your hand, dragging you even closer, wrapping an arm around your knee as she holds her sister close.

Rufioh hides the smile on his face with one hand, then reaches over and pats your shoulder. "I feel I should also introduce myself completely," you continue. When Meenah looks up at you, you give her a small smile. "I am Horuss, the eldest son of Caelus."

At that, Meenah drags Feferi with her as she wraps her arms around you. "You dumb bass! she hisses, tucking her face into your shoulder.

"Oh," one of the Prince Consorts laughs, "So you're the one who went missing." You look at him and bow, the red of his clothing betraying his blood color but the tattoo on his forehead marking him as a Seer. He seems increasingly distracted by Feferi's presence, the smile on his face putting you at ease as he watches the two sisters speak in short trills and soft rounded sounds that always remind you of small creatures she would find in shallow pools of water.

You watch as The Prince of Rage wraps an arm around him, pulling his back to the larger troll's chest. "Am I missing something?" you ask them, head tilted to the side.

The Seer shakes his head. "At the same time as the young princess went missing, I was nearly killed." he fills you in, and it dawns on you that this must be the Seer of Blood, the troll named Kankri that Kurloz had told you about. If you had been here with them instead of in Rufioh's forest home, you would have been given the task of guarding him as well as the three royals and possibly the other Prince Consort.

"I am glad to see that life is slowly returning to normal." you bow your head again.

Meenah turns her attention back to you, a grin on her face. "So," she starts. "I think we may need to adjourn to a private room. The entire group of us. There is a lot to discuss."

You start to nod, but then Rufioh steps in and you can feel yourself flushing as you remember. "I'm sorry, D-" he cuts himself off at your look of terror, and then tries again. "Empress, but we need to collect a couple of trolls first." When she looks up at him, head tilting back at what is probably an uncomfortable angle, he grins. "We brought a couple others along, and we shouldn't leave them alone for too long."

She nods, then gestures for him to lead the way.

The Princes and their matesprites follow, the yellow wearing one hand in hand with the Bard of Hope. You watch him carefully for a moment, then nod. To you, neither of the consorts seems dangerous, and you feel relief in your chest. You may have spent a sweep too long watching over Feferi, making sure that she was not killed.

Rufioh's hand slides into yours as you all exit the throne room. Sitting in the hall outside of it is Equius, accompanied by a small troll with metal legs sticking out from his pants and into his shoes. Currently, Equius is helping him bend one of his knees, the clacking noise of a gear out of place makes you frown. "Tavros?"

He looks up at you, his eyes big and a little worried. "uh, hi Horuss!" he greets, poking at his knee, only for his hand to be moved away by Equius. "my knee stopped working,"

You smile, then crouch down to inspect it, knowing that your brother has already gone through the prelimenaries that you're now going through. "Well," you begin, feeling Rufioh's smile as though it's your own. "What happened before it stopped working?"

Tavros shrugs, and Feferi lets go of her sister to come forward and sit with him. "i was just standing here, and then it shifted and it was bad," he looks up at his brother, then shoots his arms up in the air. "rufioh!" he squeaks.

The laughter that follows is enough to make you laugh as well, and Rufioh leans down to pick him up, a delicate claw running over his knee. "Well," Rufioh drops his nose to his brother's head. "Equius and Horuss know what's goin' on with it, so we'll let them figure it out, huh?"

"yeah!" Tavros squeaks again.

You help Equius to his feet, then watch as he carefully rolls his tools back into the canvas he keeps them in. He looks at Feferi, then helps her up from the floor.

She gets to her feet and smiles at him.

Meenah reaches forward and tugs a strand of her hair, as if reassuring herself that her sister is actually back in her life. "C'mon squirt," she laughs when Feferi giggles. "You need to tell me everything, with help from the two who appear to have basically raised you."

Your name is Horuss Zahhak, and for the first time in nearly four sweeps, you feel complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feferi lives!


	23. ==> BE THE ROGUE OF BREATH

==> BE THE ROGUE OF BREATH

 

Well, seeing as you are the Rogue of Breath, that's easily accomplished.

You roll your eyes fondly as you think those words. You must be spending too much time around Horuss, because you're even thinking in his words now. You don't mind, however, because spending too much time together is what happens when you're matesprites.

You jostle your brother around in your arms for a minute as you walk, keenly aware of the royals at your back. Their matesprites seem to be something similar to you, so you guess that they can't be too bad, but the way the Prince of Rage had looked at you was more than a little terrifying, so you think you'll leave him alone. Tavros squeals in joy as you gently toss him from hand to hand, careful not to clench too tightly on the prosthetic legs that Horuss and Equius had worked so hard on.

His horns are already enough like yours that you wince at his future of ducking through doors sideways.

As you do this, you can feel someone watching. When you look up, a wiggler with purple pants and makeup on his face is in the hallway with the rest of you, watching as you play with Tavros. For a moment, the two of you just stare, and you gesture with the entirety of your brother towards the wiggler. "Do you wanna say hi?" you ask him.

The rest of the group doesn't seem to have noticed what you're doing.

The wiggler nods and steps forward, and you crouch to accommodate his smaller height. He pokes a finger into Tavros's arm and your brother lights up like a meteor shower in the night sky, a happy squeal coming from his lungs so loudly that you think for a minute you might have gone deaf. The other wiggler makes a noise back, a happy sounding sort of honking noise, and the entire group stops dead in their tracks.

The purple wiggler grins, sharp teeth poking into his bottom lip. You can't tell quite how old he is, but he's old enough to have his teeth be as sharp as they're going to be without enhancement.

The Prince of Rage turns around, his eyes wide, and watches the three of you. His matesprite, the one in red, swings out beside him, already laughing. The purple wiggler waves at them then pokes Tavros's arm again. Tavros lets out another high pitched squeal, and the cycle continues.

Poke, squeal, honk, poke, squeal, honk.

After a few minutes of it, you're ready to burst from trying not to laugh and the purple wiggler is honking almost constantly now, a bright happy noise.

"Kurloz," you hear someone say warningly, and then there's the Prince of Rage and he's staring at you and your brother like you're something he's never seen before. Behind him, his matesprite has his arms crossed over his chest. "Kurloz, Gamzee seems to be perfectly happy with this."

The wiggler looks up at the name. You figure that it's his.

Tavros reaches up and tugs a lock of Gamzee's hair, smiling all the while. When Gamzee makes a shocked honking noise, Tavros pulls his hands back, holding them in the air while he waits for the okay on continuing.

After a moment, the painted wiggler leans in closer, lets Tavros dig both hands into his hair, and honks repeatedly.

The Prince of Rage looks at the both of them, then kneels and picks the purple wiggler up. He nudges their noises together, then sets him back down and nods at you. Without a word, he heads back towards his matesprite, the smaller of the two taking his hand with a smile. Tavros, having let go when Gamzee was taken away, looks ecstatic to have his new friend back.

A soft tugging on the hem of your shirt has you looking over.

To the side of you, there's a third wiggler. This one has a black sweater on, with a red cancer symbol on the chest. He looks remarkably like the Seer, and you smile at him. For a moment, he seems undecided on what to do, but then Gamzee reaches over and grabs his hand, pulling him closer.

"What's his name?" Gamzee asks softly, his voice still small enough to you have to guess he's not yet Equius's age.

"This," you hold up your brother and wiggle him from side to side slowly. He laughs, and Gamzee's smile gets bigger. "Is Tavros. He's my brother." The third wiggler watches as the other two interact then smiles. "What's your name?"

"Gamzee Makara!" the first wiggler spits the name out like he's used to shouting it at the top of his lungs. Or maybe he's imitating someone who has to. Either way, you think that you like his spirit. Maybe he'll help Tavros be a little bit bolder. The other one looks up at you, his little ears wiggling. Gamzee sighs then pulls the other's hand into the air. "This is Karkat. He's my brother!"

"Rufioh?" Horuss calls from further down the hall.

"One second!" you call back, then look at the two stray wigglers. "Want to come along?"

Gamzee nods excitedly, back to looking at Tavros. Karkat is slower, but he nods as well.

"Are you two alright with being carried?" you ask, waiting for an answer. You receive it in the form of Gamzee holding his arms out to be picked up and Karkat leaning closer. The two of them tuck neatly into your arms, and Tavros squeaks happily at having his new friends with him. When you arrive at the door that Horuss is holding open with an armful of wigglers, you can practically see him wanting to roll his eyes at you.

His training prevents him, no matter how much you both know that he wants to.

Instead, he gestures you into the room, where you're greeted by the shocked faces of the Princes and Empress. The Seer is watching you in slight confusion, but there isn't shock on his face. Instead, there's hope.

"Well," he says, leaning into his matesprite's side. "Having fun, Karkat?"

The sweatered wiggler nods vigorously, kicking his legs gently as he does. After a second, Gamzee and Tavros follow suit, their own legs moving smoothly back and forth. 

Tavros's left leg isn't moving quite right, and you can see Equius focusing on it. You head for him, already humming something softly, and he pulls out the chair next to him for you.

"Here you go," you say as you pull Tavros out of the cluster. "Have a wiggler."

He pulls out his tools again, setting Tavros on the table and rolling his pant leg back up. Gamzee watches, transfixed, as he opens up the panel covering the knee and starts adjusting gears and wires. Somewhat less entranced, Karkat wiggles until you let him down. You lean back to watch him move under the table until he reaches the Seer. With a small tug of the troll's cloak, he's picked up off the floor, curling his face into the Seer's chest with a soft sigh.

You smile at the sight.

Gamzee seems content to be held by you as you watch your brother's leg get repaired, and the two of you watch to see what Equius fixes.

The Prince of Rage reaches around behind the Seer and drags him closer, a hand resting on his hip. The two trolls he snagged for the price of one both look at him, the Seer smiling fondly. When they see you looking, the Seer waves at you, and Karkat looks between his hands at Gamzee.

"Is he yours?" you ask quietly, trying not to interrupt the Empress's conversation with Horuss.

The Seer nods. "He is." he scratches gently at Karkat's scalp, earning himself a contented little purr of a noise from his son's throat. With a matching noise, the Seer reaches up and you watch, amused and more than a little amazed, as he scratches just as gently at his matesprite's head. The Prince of Rage makes a good show of pretending it doesn't affect him, but the moment the Seer even so much as makes vague motions in the direction of the base of his horns, he's a giant puddle of troll in a chair. "Is that one yours, or a sibling?"

"He's my brother," you answer quietly, reaching over to pet at the ankle of one of Tavros's metal legs. "My father decided to send him with me on this trip. The two of us have never really been away from each other before, not since he pupated. He's only two sweeps old."

Tavros catches your finger on the way back, and you smile as he swings it in his grip. In your arm, Gamzee perks up and makes a soft noise that sounds almost like the honking he was doing earlier. "Speaking of wigglers," you motion down with your chin. "Is this one yours?" Now that you look closely, Gamzee looks almost identical to the Prince, and the two of them make a pretty terrifying pair.

"He is Kurloz's brother." the Seer explains. At your blank look, he tilts his head towards his matesprite. "This is Kurloz. My name is Kankri, by the way."

You grin, setting Gamzee on the table next to Tavros. "Neat. I'm Rufioh Nitram." you watch him watch your brother, the two of you lapsing into silence as you let your mind wander. Distantly, at the back of your awareness, you can feel the creatures that you left behind to be here right now.

It isn't until Equius nudges your arm that you come out of it, and by then, everyone is looking at you.

"Rufioh?" Horuss asks quietly.

You shrug, waving him off. Next to him, the Empress is holding Feferi in her lap, watching you. Feferi gives you a smile, and you immediately feel calmer. Slowly, the entire room goes back to discussing things, and you do your best to pay attention.

In the time between now and when you last looked, Gamzee has pulled Tavros into his lap and curled his surprisingly long arms around him.

Your little brother has never looked quite so happy before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Rufioh

**Author's Note:**

> So...  
> Back when I was a brand-new homestuck fan, I wanted to write a Royalty AU. Because I'm a dork. And I like drawing pretty outfits and making things sad. 
> 
> This is that AU. This story is just going to be the entire thing. I'm posting it all because I felt like writing more for it and it's a 72 page word document at this point.


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